John Ship, PI
by JJAndrews
Summary: Private Investigator John Ship finds himself in a place far removed from Newcastle in 1945. In Kings Landing he is confronted by a city without modern science and medicine. Here corruption is rife and justice is far beyond the reach of common men. Therefore, he founds the first Private Investigator firm in Westeros to bring some order to this wicked city.
1. Chapter 1

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter One

It was a dark night, according to my pocket watch it was ten PM, and I was ready to move. The drivers seat in my Vauxhall 10-4, a reliable car I had bought second hand off a man who couldn't afford to keep it going after the war started, was worn and comfortable. On the passenger's seat were my notes and binoculars while inside the dark tartan coat was dad's trench knife. Keeping it on me was illegal but the police had more important things to deal with. It still hadn't been long since the damn Jerry's and Jap's surrendered and the celebrations just wouldn't stop. Of course on the V Day and the V J Day I'd gone out and got ludicrously drunk with some friends from the police and a couple of other PI's but it had been a hollow day for me. As I glanced at my walking stick on the back seat and then down at my specially made right leather boot holding my misshapen foot, the birth defect which had stopped me from doing my part, I couldn't join the army, the ARP, the fire brigade and even the bloody Home Guard turned me down. Usually they were polite enough but the one from the ARP was blunt about it. "We don't have room for cripples!" the flat nosed git shouted when I went to sign up. Throughout the war I kept at my job as a PI and, at that time, I knew I would keep doing it as long as I could. The door to the house I had been watching opened and a man and a woman in brand new clothes, probably black market, left the house and walked to the new car outside before driving off. I waited for a few minutes until I was sure that they wouldn't return for something they left behind. While I waited it began to rain, and I rolled my eyes before grabbing the stick, put my fedora over my dark brown hair, fastening the brass buttons of my dark tartan coat and stepped into the rain which was now starting to get heavier, I wouldn't have been surprised if it turned into a thunderstorm at the rate it was going and it wasn't long until I was proved right. Anyway, I approached the front door of the house and pulled my lockpicks one of my coats internal pockets and started working. It didn't take long to open the door and I entered the house, lighting up a match as I did so to give me light but not enough to disturb the neighbours. Most of the furniture was well maintained, although there were a few newer items, such as a wireless and a record player in the living room and in the kitchen was a new gas oven, its surface freshly cleaned. My match died so I discarded it and pulled out a new one, lighting it and giving me light again. I searched through the kitchen and then the pantry where I saw a briefcase on the top most shelf. People always hid their stolen goods in the same places.

After a few guesses I unlocked the case and I couldn't help a whistle escape my lips as I saw it. The case was filled with jewels, small bars of gold, earrings of silver and gold as well as sovereign coins. I pulled a folded photo from my pocket showing a young woman in a rather daring dress, around her neck a pearl and gold necklace. I found the same one in the case and I knew that the case was solved, I'd take this back to her, receive my payment and hand the briefcase to the police who could send this thief to prison. I was about to lock the case when I slipped the gold coins into my pocket and then locked it properly. When I came to the front door the rain was even worse and, with my cane, I began to walk through the cold, punishing water cascading from the sky like a thousand tiny daggers clawing at me. There was a flash of light in the sky followed by a thundering boom. I was right, it was a storm now. Suddenly there was another strike of lightning, this one close by, far too close. I struggled through the rain, my damned foot making walking slightly awkward at the best of times but now it was much harder, as lighting struck again and I was blasted by the light.

The next thing I knew it was the middle of the day, the sun was beating down on me and fresh sea air mixed with fish bombarded my senses.

'What the Devil?' I asked as someone pushed me out of the way.

I looked around me in shock as hundreds of people went about their business, only sparing a passing glance at me. They were all dressed strangely, almost as if they had walked off of the set of a costume drama set in the Middle Ages but there were no camera's anywhere. On reflection I suppose I must have looked strange to them, clad in my tartan overcoat, trousers and waistcoat, my tie with that mustard stain that refused to leave it and my fedora placed on my short hair. I was near some sort of harbour, numerous ships of many different designs were either loading or unloading cargo and passengers. Close by the docks were men from the ships speaking with what appeared to be the harbour masters while others were manning stalls covered with food. Inns stood in many places, many with suggestive signs over the doors which hinted that more than alcohol was being sold there. I walked along for a while, my eyes trying to take in all the sights, when I realised that there was a great red wall close by, and beyond it was the top of a castle a great distance away. I followed the course of the road I was on until I reached a gate in the wall and entered the massive city properly. The gates were guarded by a few men armed with spears and clad in mail and gold dyed cloaks. They seemed bored more than anything and only spared me a passing glance as I entered the city.

For over an hour I wondered around, without much thought, only to see what this place offered. The cobbled streets twisted randomly leading into squares with public water fountains which residents drew water from. One of these fountains, was topped by a statue of a beautiful woman wearing a crown, sitting on a chair and looking down with kindness on those who took the water. Out of curiosity I looked at the plaque under the statue and read the name.

GOOD QUEEN ALYSANNE

Whoever she was, I thought to myself, she must have been popular. Feeling the heat of the day getting to me I pulled my empty flask out from under my coat and filled it with the water, enjoying the drink before I moved on. Soon after this I realised that the shadows were growing longer as the sun moved into afternoon and I had to find somewhere to stay for the night, and for that I'd need money. Nearby I saw a group of four boys, all of them just sitting in the shadow of an awkwardly leaning building and all of them clearly poor.

'Excuse me,' I said to them and four pairs of eyes snapped to me. 'Do any of you know where to find a pawn broker? A dealer in jewels?'

'I can!' one of them shouted only to be shoved away by another.

'It's my turn to show people around.'

'No it's mine!'

'You can both show me,' I stopped them from causing trouble there and then.

'How much will you pay?' asked one, with dirty blonde hair while the other was ginger.

'I have nothing right now, but if you show me about I will pay afterwards.'

'We want paid now,' the ginger boy told him and crossed his arms.

'I'll take your deal,' the dirty blonde said while his compatriot remained in the shade of the building.

'What's your name, boy?'

'Matti,' he answered.

'Alright Matti, show me to the pawnbroker.'

'Have you just arrived?' he asked me.

'Yes, just a couple of hours ago,' I said and looked at my watch, realising I'd need to change the time on it since it still thought it was the middle of the night.

'Your clothes are strange.'

'They're normal in England.'

'England?'

'It's where I'm from. To be honest, I'm not even sure where I am.'

'How?'

'I, well, I was in England then I woke up down at the docks.'

At that Matti started laughing. After our brief talk we didn't say much as we went through the city until we reached a well kept row of buildings, all of them with signs hanging off of them bearing the classic images of brokers and jewellers. The street was for the most part quiet except for a few well dressed men going in and out of the buildings.

'The one on the end is Dendo Ferrnah's,' Matti explained. 'He's got a good reputation.'

'Thank you Matti. If you wait outside I'll have some money for you when I'm finished.'

'Thank you, sir.'

And with that, I entered the dark and quiet shop of Dendo Ferrnah, a man with a swarthy look, his hair dark and curly and on his fat fingers were large rings.

'Can I help you?' the man asked me, clearly putting up a façade of not being interested.

'Are you Dendo Fernah?'

'I am, pawn broker and dealer in precious metals and stones. You have something for me?'

'Yes I do,' I answered and placed the case on the counter before opening it, carefully keeping all the contents hidden from Dendo and took out of it the bars of gold. 'Will you be willing to exchange these for coins?'

'Certainly,' he answered, clearly excited at the sight of the gold.

He took the bars and placed them on the scales on his counter, as well as scraping off small amounts and looking at them through some type of magnifying glass for a few moments.

'It's good quality gold. I'd say there are ten dragons worth of gold in each of these bars. I can pay you in stags.'

'I'm not from these parts,' I told him. 'How much is that worth?'

'Oh I see. It's two hundred silver stags to a gold dragon and a thousand three hundred copper stars to a gold dragon.'

'Thank you. In that case how much will you pay?'

'A hundred stags for each bar.'

'That's robbery.'

'You question my honor sir?' he asked as he came to stand up, revealing him to be unusually short. Other men would have laughed at that but, as a man whose had to deal with a misshapen foot his whole life, I am better than that.

'I need money.'

'So do I. How about a hundred and five for each bar and I will struggle to make a profit.'

For a moment John thought about it before nodding.

'Seems fair. I'll take it.'

So, half an hour later after both of us had counted the coins, I left the shop with a large bag of silver in one of my tartan coats many internal pockets and pressed a coin into Matti's hand.

'A stag?' he asked, delighted.

'Yes. You'll have another one if you can show me to a good inn where I won't get lice by sleeping there.'

'This way sir,' Matti eagerly said and quickly led me into the crowd of the cities populace, but due to my condition we had to slow down to the point that it was nearing three in the afternoon by my reckoning by the time the boy got me to a large, squat building with a typical pub sign hanging over the door showing a woman with a sword.

'What's this place called?' I asked him.

'Visenya's Rest,' he answered, holding out his hands and I gave him the promised money. 'Will you need anymore work sir?' Matti asked after putting the coin in a pouch on his belt.

'I might. Will I be able to find you at the fountain?'

'Yes sir.'

'In that case, if I need you I'll find you. Now run off.'

Matti soon vanished into the crowds and I entered the inn, the main room on the ground floor was wide with many tables set up, all of which were crowded with men and women drinking, eating and some gambling while a few women wearing skimpy dresses were trying to get attention. In the corner a pretty girl was signing while a man played some sort of an instrument. I ignored them all and walked straight towards the bar where an old man was serving drinks.

'I'd like a room.'

'One moment,' the man said through crooked and chipped teeth and looked over his shoulder towards a young man. 'Kans! Deal with this man!'

'I'll do it,' the man said and hurried over to me. 'How can I help you?'

'A room for seven days.'

The room proved to be a very small one, the cheapest the place had, with a bed, a bucket under the bed, and a chest for my belongings. I could have paid for a better room butthere was no need to spend too much money. Granted, in the suitcase I had a small fortune in jewels and coins but I knew that wherever I was I'd need a way to make money.

So, my hat and coat laying down on the bed, I leaned out of the window and looked out across the massive city and dusk began to fall.

'Well,' I said to myself, 'here we go.'


	2. Chapter 2

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Two

It had been another day of hard work, for the fourth day in a row, young Matti had shown me to another dealer in stones and metals where I exchanged my goods for coins. As for the gold sovereigns I took them to a money exchanger, who traded foreign coins for their Westerosi worth. Over the past four days I had learned where he was, or rather its name, King's Landing, the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. That day, after selling some more of the jewels, Matti and I walked along the Street of Steel to get back to Visenya's when the boy suggested I get a sword to show off my wealth.

'It would be a waste of money, Matti.'

'But all the rich men carry swords.'

'I don't need one and look at me,' I said and tapped my right boot with my cane. 'What good's a sword with a man who has trouble standing? This,' I said and reached into my coat to draw out my dad's knife, 'is better for me.'

I passed it to Matti who studied it intently.

'It was my dad's,' I told him.

'What did he use it for?'

'Tunnel fighting?'

'What was that?'

'When my dad was eleven he started working in the pits,' I told him, remembering Newcastle. 'After that he joined the army and as a miner he knew how to dig properly. He was given the job of digging under castle walls,' I obviously had to change the details to sound reasonable with the places circumstances, so changing German trenches to castle seemed the best choice. 'The idea was to collapse the walls, but sometimes the enemy would dig their own tunnels down to stop my dad and his boys. When that happened it was tunnel fighting.'

'Wow,' he said, clearly impressed as he studied the knuckle duster build into the handle.

'He was a hell of a man,' I took the knife back and put it back in its sheath as we crossed the street leading up to the inn and I again paid him for his help that day.

'Will you be needing me again?'

John knew what he was really asking. Will you still pay me for work?

'I might do, it depends how busy I will be. Off you go lad.'

I entered the inn which I was starting to think of as a home and, after securing my money in my room, proceeded to the bar and ordered a drink from Kans, the grandson of the innkeeper.

'Busy day John?'

'Very,' was my response as I took a drink of the beer. 'Good drink this one.'

'We have a good brewer. Say, you remember what you told me about your job last night? Being a "Private Investigator" wasn't it?'

'That's right,' was my response, curious about what he meant.

'See that man over there?' he pointed across the inn towards a well dressed man in his forties with a few armed men. 'Ser Rickard Marn, he has a castle three days north of here. Earlier he said he was looking for a girl and was willing to pay for information.'

'I like the sound of this,' I said and grinned at the prospect of my first job since I got to this city, little did I know it would be the first of many.

'Good luck if you want to take it.'

'I'll talk to him. Thanks Kans,' I then passed him a stag for the drink and the information, downed the beer and then walked across the inn towards Ser Rickard.

Now up close I could see that the man had silver-blonde hair, green eyes and a deep scar on his right cheek. The men with him all looked rough, clearly hired muscle.

'Ser Rickard?' I asked.

'Who are you?' he asked, clearly not caring.

'An expert in tracking down people,' I answered with a slight grin and that clearly interested Ser Rickard.

'Sit,' the knight told me and I sat down, placing my cane against the table. 'What's your name.'

'John Ship. I'm a private investigator.'

'A what?' asked one of the thugs.

'Is that another word for cripple?' one of them mocked.

'I deal with tracking down people and items the authorities can't be bothered dealing with. I've heard that you have need of a man like me.'

'I do.'

'And that you're willing to pay.'

'Five dragons for the girl.'

'I'll handle it but I need details. Who is the girl? Why are you looking for her?'

At a look from Ser Rickard, his men stood up and took a few steps away so no onlookers could overhear them.

'The girl is eight years old, named Sera, and she's my daughter. My bastard daughter.'

'If you're worried about word getting out I know how to be discreet.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Anyway, Sera's mother, Delani, has been taking care of her but recently I stopped receiving her letters. When I got here I was told that she hasn't been seen in days.'

'And you don't know where to find her.'

'Exactly.'

'What can you tell me about Delani?'

'She's low born, no one important, but I had her for one night. Delani worked up at the Red Keep in the kitchens. I can't go there, it's wrong for an anointed knight to go into a place where food is prepared, so I sent one of my men but he was killed by one of the cooks when he tried to steal money from them.'

'I'll start there then. Five dragons for the girl, I'll get her back to you.'

I stood up but Ser Rickard stopped me, placing a scroll in my hand.

'What's this?'

'My seal, it will prove to the guards at the castle that you are there on official business.'

'I understand. Thank you.'

With that I properly stood up and went to get my coat and hat, it was time to go to work.

…

Getting into the Red Keep was easy with the seal that Ser Rickard gave to me, as soon as I showed it to the guards at the gate they let me in at once, naturally seeing me as just another man in the service of a powerful man. For a short time I stood in awe in the halls of power, the mighty Red Keep which I'd seen every day since my arrival and now I was in it. Soon I entered the kitchens and spoke to the head cook, a large man with a short temper who threatened to throw me out if I started trouble like the last man Ser Rickard had sent. It was easy to persuade him that I was not a moron like the last man so the cook allowed me to ask questions and look around Delani's room.

Her room was the size of a slightly large wardrobe with just enough space for a small bed, an empty box under it and a child sized bed. Clearly when she had left she took everything with her, so I decided to ask the rest of the staff. After speaking to three who said a version of "It's none of my business" I sat down waiting in Delani's room for the next, who turned out to be a woman with red hair.

'Salina isn't it?' I asked her.

'That's right.'

'Well my dear,' he said, adopting a friendly expression, 'what do you know about Delani? Where she's taken her daughter?'

'I have no idea. One day she got up, packed her things, told the cook she was leaving and left.'

'It sounds strange. How long ago was this?'

'Five days ago, I think.'

'Five days? According to my employer she stopped writing to him before then.'

'Ser Rickard you mean?' she asked with a smirk. 'Yes, I know that Sera's his daughter.'

'Has Delani been acting strangely lately?'

'Strange? In a way, mind you she was always different. Not many cooks know how to write for a start.'

'So she was acting differently?'

'Yes, she's been at the Sept more than usual.'

'The Sept?'

'Yes the Sept, usually she just went once a week with Sera but for about a month she's been going every day, up before dawn.'

'Which Sept did she attend?'

'I think it's the one at the top of the Hook,' she said, referring to the long, bent thoroughfare near Aegon's Hill.

'Will the Septon see me?'

'Probably, if he's not there you can find him at the Kneel.'

'The Kneel?'

'It's a whorehouse nearby.'

'I'll see him. Thank you Salina.'

…

There was no need to go to the Kneel, the Septon was at his place, writing a sermon, and when I told him who it was I was looking for he shrugged and sent me off to one of the Septa's, a fairly young woman with a pockmarked face, her name was Feeri.

'Delani,' she explained as we walked around the building, past the man sized statues of the Seven. 'She was a truly devout young woman.'

'Has she always been like that?'

'No, until two months ago I never really noticed her.'

'What changed?'

'I don't know, it looks like she had an awakening, an urge to dedicate herself to the Seven. After that I saw her every day.'

'You spoke with her often?'

'Most days she was here I talked to her, we would sit here,' she said as we reached the statue of a kind looking woman. 'By the Mother we would talk, and she asked for forgiveness.'

'For what crime?'

'Her child out of wedlock,' she answered. 'What she did, having one, was wrong, but she was repentant. I wish Sera cared as much. She was always utterly bored by what I said to her.'

'Do you know where they are?' he finally asked.

'Of course I do. Sera, the poor thing, was too wild, she wouldn't devote herself to the Seven, so Delani said that she would stop the girl making the same mistakes she made.'

My uncle Howard had been a fanatical Catholic, even going off to join the IRA before he ws arrested, so I knew how far this sort of thing can go.

'Where are they?'

'Delani and Sera are going to Oldtown where they can join the ranks of the Faith.'

I just looked at her for a moment, now I was worried, really worried.

'Have they already left?'

'I don't know. I think she was going by ship though.'

As soon as she said it I left the Sept and marched straight into the street, calling down a passing carriage and climbing in, telling the driver where to go. At the harbour masters solar I spoke to the man and learned that no ships had sailed for Oldtown in three days but one was going in less than an hour. Instead of heading straight there I looked around for a moment and saw a run down inn nearby, went in and was glad to see many of the patrons had the look of bored men waiting for work. I cleared his throat and shouted.

'I need four men who know how to look strong and fight!'

Twenty men suddenly appeared in front of me, offering themselves but I quickly chose four, Synol, a man from a place called Braavos with a sabre at his waist, Foor, a Northerner with a one handed axe, Gallin, a local man with a bastard sword and Ser Tallard Manser, a Hedge Knight in rusted mail and armed with a mace. I led them out of the inn and they followed me towards the harbour where the ship for Oldtown would soon be leaving.

'Our job is to locate a girl,' I explained as we went as quickly as we could. 'Her mother wants to force her into the Faith, we have to stop them.'

'We'll rescue the innocent child,' Ser Tallard proclaimed as we approached the ship, named the Galloper, its crew carrying boxes up the gangplank.

'Let's go,' I told them and shoved past a man at the bottom of the gangplank and went up, difficult with the damned cane but I and my men managed.

As soon as we were on deck the crew started shouting and a few drew their daggers.

'Where's the captain?' I shouted.

'Me,' a man with curly hair and dark eyes said as he walked towards him, his nose high and his voice haughty. 'How dare you force your way onto my ship? I'll summon the Gold Cloaks and have you sent to the Wall as a pirate!'

I pulled out the seal and cleared his throat.

'I work for Ser Rickard Marn, any problem you have can be brought to him. Now, before you make a fool of yourself, captain, I demand to see your passengers.'

'Why?' he asked, this time more humbly, knowing he was dealing with someone working for a knight.

'It's none of your concern. I believe that among your passengers is a woman and her daughter, the girl's eight years old. Bring them here or I summon the Gold Cloaks and have you imprisoned for aiding a kidnapper.'

The captain went off to do what he was told, while my hired muscle stood with their weapons out, looking tough.

'That was impressive,' Foor said approvingly.

'It was meant to be.'

Just then there was a shout as a woman of about thirty was dragged out from below decks by two of the crew members and the captain, followed by a terrified looking little girl.

'Are these the ones your looking for?' the captain asked me.

'What's your name?' I asked the woman.

'Delani.'

'Is the girl Sera?'

'Yes I am,' she answered.

'Good. I'm here for the girl, Ser Rickard wants her. You, Delani, are free to go.'

'No!' she screeched. 'We are going to Oldtown and we are joining the Faith!'

'No I'm not,' Sera told her mother, clearly terrified. 'I don't want to do it.'

'Wicked child,' Delani snapped and slapped the girl across the cheek. 'Typical bastard, you'll grow into a harlot if you aren't raised by the Faith!'

'Get the girl,' I told the men and Ser Tallard took her by the hand, taking her away from the frantic woman while Gallin placed himself between them.

'It's all right dear,' the old knight said and smiled at her.

'Where are you taking her?' Delani hissed.

'To Ser Rickard.'

'You can't take her away from the gods!'

'I can do what I can to get paid,' was my answer before looking at the captain. 'Thank you for your help,' and then to my men. 'Let's go.'

With my men we led the girl off the ship while the captain and his men held onto Delani, stopping her from going after us.

…

'Another round!' I called to Kans who got ready to deliver more tankards of beer to their table at Visenya's.

I sat with the four men who I had hired, after paying them two stags each for their work I decided that it would be a decent to invited them to the inn for drinks after a good days work. Ser Rickard was delighted to see his daughter safe and sound and paid John for his service.

'The look on that fat bastards face when you called him a kidnapper!' Synol laughed and slapped his knee.

'I'm glad it worked,' Ser Tallard chipped in.

'So am I,' I told them. 'Mind you, I didn't think it would for a moment.'

'Will you be needing us again?' Foor asked him through a foam filled beard.

'Probably. My work often gets dangerous, so some good men will come in handy.'

'You know where to find us,' Gallin told him.

'Of course I do,' the drinks arrived and each of us took a tankard before clanking them together and drinking again. 'I plan on buying a house soon, a place to run my business from. I have big plans.'


	3. Chapter 3

Johan Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**AN: Please note that this chapter and the next two contain material which could be considered disturbing to people of a sensitive nature. Readier Discretion is advised.**

Chapter Three

With a hand shake I wrapped up my latest case, locating a stolen diamond necklace for a merchants wife. It was a simple job which earned me two dragons for it. After she left I leaned back in my chair at Visenya's, the inn which I had made a temporary home until I could get my own permanent establishment and signalled the bar for my beer. Kans brought it over and sat down opposite me, shaking my hand for a moment.

'Well done,' the younger man said with abroad smile.

'Thanks Kans. Still, I wish had more cases that actually made me think.'

'Where did you find the necklace?'

'Her nephew stole it as collateral for a loan. He owed money to Lord Baelish.'

'Dangerous position to be in. Any luck getting your own house?'

'I found a building, it's cheap, but it's in a bad state, I'll need to repair a lot of it.'

'Shame that. I'd buy it if I were you.'

'I might do, I sent young Matti off to speak with the seller.'

'Good luck with it then. Still, for now you can keep using this place.'

'I will.'

When I finished my drink I went upstairs to my room, larger than the initial tiny room I stayed in in my first week after arriving, this one had a good sized bed, a wardrobe and some shelves as well as a desk. It had been easy to make it into a combination of office and bedroom, suitable for my current work style. The small jobs I'd been taking covered the rent well enough, but I was still looking forward to getting my own place. I still remember my old flat, sometimes I wonder what had happened to it, were my history books still there, was my statue of the Duke of Wellington still sitting on my desk next to my spare magnifying glass? Caught up in my thoughts I almost didn't realise that there was a knock at my door.

'Who is it?' I asked.

'Ser Joffrey Grenby,' answered the man on the other side. 'City Watch.'

'Come in,' I responded and a man wearing the usual gold cloak entered, he had a prominent nose and long moustache. 'How can I help you, Ser Joffrey?'

The knight sat down opposite me and studied my face for a few moments.

'The City Watch has heard about you, you've got a reputation now.'

'A good one I hope.'

'So far. You're calling yourself a private investigator, a man who investigates problems for a price.'

'That's right.'

'The Gold Cloaks don't know what to make of you. Some say you're doing our job for us.'

'Of course not. I will never break the king's peace, if I find a serious problem I'll bring it to your attention.'

'I'm glad to hear it, because we decided to give you a test, to see how good you are.'

'The City Watch has a job for me?'

'Yes,' he said and reached into his cloak, pulling out a scroll and presented it to me so I took it. 'We need you to find a murderer, his name is Wilson.'

'A murderer?'

'Wilson murdered two whores and a gold cloak at the Blonde Blade brothel three weeks ago, we have witnesses who saw him to do it, and he's vanished into the city.'

'How do you know he hasn't left?'

'Our men at the gates have been watching for him.'

'And how much will you be paying me?'

'Fifty stags, he's very dangerous.'

'I'll take the contract.'

'Good. When you have him bring him to me at the Muddy Way Barracks.'

For the next few minutes I looked through the scroll which contained a description of the man, dark brown hair, a thin, curved scar on his chin and mismatched eyes, his left eye blue and his right eye green. Just as I finished the door was opened and Matti entered.

'Perfect timing,' I said as the boy came in. 'Go to the Dirty Fish and get me Synol, Foor, Gallin and Ser Tallard Manser.'

'But sir the house owner.'

'You can tell me later. Now go.'

…

'When you said you needed us this isn't what I had in mind,' Ser Tallard commented as he and the other sell swords followed me towards the brothel after putting our horses in the stables connected to it.

'I'm getting paid to go to a brothel,' Foor said with a grin on his Face. 'This is great.'

'Don't get too excited,' I told him. 'We are here to solve a mystery, find a killer and bring him to justice.'

As he said that he opened the front door and walked in followed by his men. The entryway was a large room with several comfortable chairs and couches alone the walls, several spaces on them were occupied by women dressed in little more than thin dressing gowns.

'How can we help you?' asked one of them, a redheaded girl of about twenty.

'We're here to speak with the owner of this place.'

'She doesn't do what we do,' the redhead said and began to open her dressing gown.

'I'm with the gold cloaks,' I told her. 'They've hired me to locate Wilson.'

'Oh I'm sorry,' she said with a chuckle and closed her gown. 'I'll take you to the boss.'

'Thank you my dear.'

'John,' said Foor. 'If you don't need me right now I can find something else to do,' he said and eyed up a brunette whore who clearly knew what the Northerner had planned.

'Knock yourself out,' I responded with a grin and led his other men further into the building.

The brothel was a good establishment, not gaudy but well furnished enough to be comfortable. After going up some stairs I handed a sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal to Ser Tallard.

'When I'm speaking to the owner write down what we say.'

'What for?'

'So we can look through them later, she might say something important.'

They went past rooms but most of them appeared to be empty though from a few ecstatic moans and screams could be heard.

'Not very subtle,' I said to the girl leading us.

'Most of our clients don't like subtlety,' she remarked.

'So, what's the Madame's name?' I asked the girl.

'Caril,' she answered. 'She's run this place for about ten years.'

'Have you been working here for long?'

'Two years. Much better than my last place. I used to work for Lord Baelish in one of his less welcoming establishments.'

'I thought Littlefinger served the best.'

'He runs some cheap ones as well. Rich or poor all men need something to plough into.'

'It depends on the man I suppose.'

'Here we are,' the girl told him after they reached one of the top floor rooms and entered, revealing a spacious room well decorated with paintings, a few statues and a door leading onto a wide balcony. There was also a large oak desk at one end of the room in front of a large bed which was occupied by three nude young women and looking at them was another woman fully clothed. 'Caril,' the girl who showed them up there spoke to her.

'One moment child,' the clothed woman responded before addressing the naked women. 'You've all done well. You'll start work here in the morning. Get dressed and go home.'

At once the four of them picked up their clothes and pulled them on before hurrying out past us, not meeting our eyes. Caril turned around and smiled at John. She was in her early forties at most with copper hair and blue eyes, a wide, thin mouth and a slight scar under her right eye.

'Sorry you had to see that,' she said to us. 'I pride myself on my girls being safe here from anyone who would harm them.'

'It's certainly admirable,' I complimented her efforts before introducing myself. 'John Ship, Private Investigator.'

'Private Investigator?' she asked with an amused tone as she sat behind her desk. 'Sounds interesting.'

'I'm hired by various people to solve cases,' I explained as he sat on the chair opposite her. 'In this case I've been hired by the City Watch to track down Wilson.'

'Thank goodness,' she said, clearly relieved. 'Elsi and Desira, the two of them deserved better. Can you catch Wilson?'

'I'm going to bloody well try. If I can understand his motive, then I might have an easier job finding the bastard.'

'I see. Well, I didn't see it happen myself, but from what I've put together, this Wilson character came in and asked to hire two of the girls, he named Elsi and Desira specifically. Elsi was already seeing to another client but he agreed to wait.'

'How long did he wait?' I asked, out of the corner of my eye seeing Ser Tallard taking notes.

'Half an hour. Elsi's client is here a lot but never for long.'

'Go on.'

'Anyway, after Elsi cleaned out her mouth she and Desira took Wilson up to a room, about five minutes later,' she stopped and looked down at the desk. 'Five minutes later we heard screaming. I know this is a brothel and there's always someone screaming, but this time it was a horrible scream.'

'I know what you mean. I've heard the same scream enough times.'

'I'm sorry to hear that John. Anyway, when I heard it I rushed downstairs to see that man running away and a Gold Cloak tried to stop him. Wilson took a dagger to him and stabbed him through the neck.'

'I'm sorry you had to see that. Is there anything else you can tell me? Did any of the other girls see him?'

'Yes, there weren't many people in the place at the time so most of the girls were just together.'

'Do you mind if my men speak to them?'

'Of course you can. If you want I can bring them up.'

'Excellent. Did anything else happen that was strange around the time of the killings?'

'I can't think of anything. Well, one of the girls died of a festered wound a week before the murders but aside from that nothing.'

'Who was she?'

'Wendy, a fine girl, one of my best.'

'Who treated her wound?'

'The apothecary next door, his name was Gregor.'

'Was?'

'Yes, he sold his shop and left the city the day before the killings.'

'So three deaths and a run away in a matter of days of each other. Sounds suspicious to me.'

'I suppose it might be,' she responded. 'Still, feel free to ask the new apothecary, man named Bilbin. He bought the shop and he's been dealing with most of Gregor's customers.'

'Thank you for your help. My men, Ser Tallard and Synol will deal with questioning the girls. I'll have a chat with Bilbin. Could you go get the ladies?'

'Of course,' she said and quickly left the room.

Once the door was closed I stood up, taking a moment to balance on my damned cane, and turned to my men.

'She's hiding something.'

'How can you tell?' asked Synol.

'A lot of practice. Talk to the girls, keep notes, watch out for if their stories are too similar.'

'Why?'

'If they've all been told to lie they'll all tell the same lie. When Foor is done send him over to me.'

'We understand,' said Ser Tallard.

…

Bilbin turned out to be a skinny man with a long white beard and no hair on his spotted scalp. When I arrived he had been cutting up some herbs and was eager for someone to talk to and happily explained how lucky he was to get this shop.

'Well, as an experienced apothecary, I knew Gregor for a while and my shop had just gone out of business, it was bought by a merchant, when suddenly Gregor rushed into my house and offered to sell me his shop and all his supplies for twenty dragons.'

'Now that is cheap. Why was he eager to sell?'

'Apparently someone threatened him and he had to leave.'

'Odd. Do you have any idea who it was?'

'No I don't. Gregor was worried though. You might find something in his papers. They're in the solar at the back.'

'I think I will take a look. Thank you Bilbin.'

'Oh if you need anything just let me know.'

'One of my men will be here sooner or later, a Northerner named Foor. If you see him send him to me.'

'I will.'

And with that I got to work on one of the key aspects of detective work, looking through the ledgers. After maybe an hour at looking through what herbs the old apothecary had bought before he ran away, Foor entered, looking very pleased with himself.

'Here comes the man of the hour,' I said with a laugh.

'She was a good one, lots of energy, had trouble keeping her in one place,' he then sat down next to me. 'So what are you looking at?'

'I've been trying to get an idea of what the former apothecary was looking into. If he made any unusual purchases before he ran away.'

'Why don't you just read his diary?'

'He took it with him.'

'Damn. I wish I could read and then I could help you.'

'Actually you can help me,' I told him and flipped to a page near the end of the ledger. 'Didn't you once tell me that your father was a smith?'

'He was.'

'Good. Now, apothecaries deal with cures, potions and the like.'

'Of course.'

'So, if he orders tools they'd be for cutting herbs and measuring ingredients. Therefore,' I said and put his finger on one note, 'why did he buy a set of surgeons knives?'

'You think he secretly wanted to be a Maester?'

'I think it's different and therefore we must investigate. Go through this place and find the surgery knives, they might tell us what he was up to.'

'If he got them not long ago I will be able to tell.'

Foor then got up and began looking, all the while I tried to work out just what it was we were missing.


	4. Chapter 4

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Four

Fifteen wide planks of wood covered in paste and over that a layer of black paint. I had ordered it before being hired by the gold cloaks but now it was here just in time for my investigation. The custom designed black board was now hung on the wall of my room at Visenya's, and my men, as well as Matti, were sitting around as I began to make notes on it in chalk.

'First, we have Wilson,' I said and with a stick of chalk drew a stick man with the name under it. 'Murdered the prostitutes Elsi and Desira,' as I spoke I added stick figures for them as well, 'as well as a Gold Cloak named Frad,' added him in as well. 'He asked for Elsi and Desira by name.'

'Meaning he was planning to kill them,' said Synol.

'Exactly. We can assume that the Gold Cloak who died was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. What else? Tallard, what did you get from the questioning?'

'All the whores gave us the same story,' he explained and then Gallin took over.

'They were all apparently minding their own business, or in one case dressing up as Meagor's Black Brides, when they heard screaming and then it turned out that Elsi and Desira were dead.'

'However,' Synol added, 'when we were asking one of the girls about if they knew Wilson before the killings she denied it, like all the other girls, but she said it very quickly. She was definitely lying.'

'Alright. So, we can conclude that Caril,' she too was added to the board, 'is covering something up, telling all her girls to lie.'

'What about Gregor the apothecary?' asked Foor. 'When I looked over his place I couldn't find the tools he bought.'

'Yes,' I said and Gregor joined the others on the board onto the board. 'Now, we know he was threatened before running off.'

'By Wilson?' asked Matti.

'We can't be sure,' I answered but drew a line between them and then added another stick figure with the word "unconnected" over it and lined it with Gregor. 'However, for now let's assume that Wilson did threaten him. Why?'

'Could have something to do with the other girl who died,' said Tallard. 'Wendy.'

'Wendy,' the group of figures on the board received a new member. 'What do we know about her?'

'Apparently she was in demand a lot,' said Synol.

'Why?'

'I don't know, she must have had a good tongue,' joked Foor.

'Alright, so we need to find someone who knew her, one of the clients.'

'What about the girl who was worried about knowing Wilson?' asked Gallin.

'What was her name?'

'Sendra.'

I added Sendra onto the board with a line linking her to Caril and Wilson.

'Alright. Matti, how good are you at sneaking around?'

'Very good sir.'

'Gallin, take Matti and wait outside of Caril's brothel. When Sendra comes out Matti will follow her home and then report back to us. We'll then interrogate her in private.'

'What about the apothecary?' asked Tallard.

'We'll head back there later. He ordered a set of surgery knives so we can conclude that he was performing surgery somewhere. Is there a cellar in that building?'

'No,' said Gallin. 'My cousin works at keeping the sewers running, under that street runs one of the main sewer tunnels, there's no room for a cellar.'

'So a hidden room,' I suggested. 'We'll take a little look. Foor, Ser Tallard, you'll be with me when we do that. Synol, you'll be asking around the local taverns near the brothel. Look for anyone who hired Wendy and try to get information on her.'

'I understand.'

'We all know what we're doing? Good. Let's get to work.'

And so, once again, I, with Foor and Ser Tallard, were looking around the apothecary shops solar and were so far getting nowhere, although the apothecary himself didn't mind since it looked like no one spent much time there.

'The hidden room must be somewhere,' said Foor as he kept tapping one of the walls.

As he said it, I tapped the back of one of the bookshelves, and then again further along before I stopped and grinned.

'I think this is it,' I said and Tallard and Foor converged on him.

Carefully I tapped around that spot, there was a narrow part of the book case where, when tapped, it made a noise which suggested an empty space.

'Move the shelves,' I told my men while I stood back.

'What are you doing?' the old apothecary asked as he entered.

'We found it,' I proudly told him as my men pulled it back revealing an arched entryway, it was narrow but enough for one man to go through at a squeeze. 'Well done men,' as I said it something hit my nose and he knew what it was.

'Blood,' said Foor and he and Tallard drew their weapons.

'Me first,' I volunteered before I entered the hidden chamber.

It was a small cell with a bed in the middle of the room and several tables along the walls. The bed itself was covered in dry, black blood which had also formed on the floor.

'We've found where he was doing surgery,' I stated careful to not touch the blood.

'It must have gone wrong,' Bilbin said as he looked at some of the items on the nearby table with Foor. 'This much blood can only be spilled by an amputated limb or a punctured organ.'

Foor picked up several blades and a long, slender rod with a slight hook on the end of it.

'Less than a month old,' Foor said as Bilbin approached a small box further along the table. 'I don't know what this is though,' he showed John the hooked rod.

'This is,' I said, suddenly it made sense what was going on here. 'Now I know what he was doing here.'

'SEVEN HELLS!'

Everyone snapped their eyes to Bilbin who was looking down with absolute horror into the box.

I was over to him as quickly as I could with my cane and looked in, shaking my head and feeling sick to the stomach at what we saw.

'What is it?' asked Foor, not sure if he wanted to see.

Wanting to give the poor being in the box some dignity I put the lid back on the box and stepped away, putting my hand on the apothecaries shoulder before addressing the men.

'An abortion,' I told them. 'Wendy didn't die from an infection. She got pregnant and she came here to have the baby aborted. Something went wrong and she died.'

'And whoever threatened Gregor knew about it,' concluded Ser Tallard. 'He wanted revenge for Wendy.'

'But what has this got to do with Wilson killing the whores?' asked Foor.

'He could have been the father,' I suggested, remembering the care that Ser Rickard Marn had for Sera.

'I doubt it,' said Tallard. 'Most men who have children with whores don't even want to know about them.'

'There must be an explanation. Perhaps we'll get more when we question Sendra.'

'What,' said Bilbin, 'what should I do with that?' he asked and pointed at the box.

'Keep it here,' he told him. 'We'll close this place up for now.'

'I understand,' he said, still visibly shaken.

…

Later that night, before the sun set, I, Foor, Tallard and Gallin sat around a small table in an alcove at Visenya's, drinking and eating while waiting for Synol to arrive back. When we spoke and discussed what we were investigating we made sure it was done in hushed tones, not wanting a matter like this to spread beyond ourselves and the Bilbin.

'What's the punishment for abortion here?' I asked the men as they ate their food.

'The man who carries it out,' said Tallard as he dipped his bread into his thick soup, 'gets punished. The Faith sees killing a babe in the womb as murder, so they hand out a murderer's punishment.'

'So Gregor kills Wendy when he tries to get rid of the baby,' Foor muttered to himself. 'Not long after that someone threatens him so he runs for it.'

'May have been running from the law after what he did,' I suggested as an idea. 'It makes sense. However, we need to find out if the man who threatened him was Wilson, was connected to Wilson or had nothing to do with Wilson.'

'And we need to know why Wilson would threaten him,' said Galin. 'I mean, why would he care about a random whore?'

Across the room I saw the door open and a slightly dishevelled looking Synol came in, after getting a large tankard of ale from the counter he proceeded over to the table and, after taking a long drink, he began to talk.

'You won't believe the day I've had,' he told us. 'There I was, going from tavern to tavern all along the Street of Silk, looking for someone to talk to about Wendy.'

'Did you have any luck?' I asked him, hoping for something else to go on.

'Yes. At one of the inns I found a whore who worked with Wendy once.'

'Excellent,' I said to him. 'What did she say?'

'That Wendy was a popular girl, she and Wendy were both called up to the Red Keep with four other girls for the King himself.'

'Blimey,' I muttered.

'Apparently it was her eyes that made her popular.'

'Did you learn anything important from the whore?'

'No, but at another tavern I found that the bar keep was best friends with Wendy's father!'

'Brilliant,' I said, excited that now we'd have something to go on and all the others at the table sat up, ready to hear it.

'Now, he talked about how great a girl she was, he knew her when she was a baby and he even helped her out with money when things got tough.'

'Did he know anything about her death?'

'He believed it was a festering wound that killed her, but he says she had been acting strange. Mostly he talked about Willard.'

'Who?' asked Foor.

'Wendy's father.'

Wait a minute, I thought to himself.

'What was it about Wendy's eyes that made her popular?' I asked, realising that if I was right it all made sense.

'What? Oh, apparently her eyes were different. You know, one was blue, the other green. You know, it adds to the variety.'

I didn't say a word for a good few moments, I was silent as the pieces of the puzzle were put in their right place together in his head. It now made sense.

'Wilson,' I said to them. 'Willard's son. Wilson. Wilson and Wendy had the same mismatched eyes. That's why he threatened Gregor. They were brother and sister.'


	5. Chapter 5

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Five

It was night and in Kings Landing the difference between day and night was a stark one. At day the streets were alive with men and women going about their business, shops teemed with life, the markets were alive with sellers shouting while pick pockets were always ready to strike. At night though the streets were empty except for drunks staggering home and the occasional patrol of Gold Cloaks. That is why I believed at the time that I and my man made for a strange group, a man in strange clothes and walking with a cane with a group of sell swords all clearly heading to a place with a mission in mind. Eventually we stopped at a typical building which contained numerous apartments within it.

'Is this it?' I asked Gallin.

'Yes.'

'Then let's get this over with.'

'Can't we wait until the morning?' asked Ser Tallard. 'I mean, I don't like the idea of barging around in the middle of the night.'

'It's the only time of day when you know they'll be at home,' I told him. 'As I said, let's go.'

We entered the building to find a simple front desk behind which sat an old man, sleeping. Just wanting to get this done I tapped him on the shoulder and he woke up with a start.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'I'm with the Gold Cloaks. I need to speak to one of your residents.'

'At this time of night?'

'Yes.'

'Very well,' he said. 'Who is it you want?'

'Sendra.'

'The whore? Top floor, closest to the stairs.'

'Thank you,' I said before quietly leading my men up the stairs to the top floor where we went to the right door, lined up and I knocked against it with the end of my knife handle three times.

'Open up!' I shouted as I heard movement behind the door.

A moment later the door opened to reveal Sendra, a young woman dressed only in a simple shift and a candle in hand.

'Who are you?' she asked and then recognised my men. 'I'm not talking,' she said and closed the door but I put my cane in the door, stopping it from being shut.

'We know the truth,' I told her. 'Who Wilson really is and Wendy's baby.'

For a few moments there was nothing, but eventually she opened the door, her face downcast and let us in, lighting a few candles as she went. Sendra's home was one room, a bed in the corner, a wardrobe and a table against the wall. Sendra sat down in a chair by the window while we stood before her, waiting.

'What do you want?'

'You need to tell us everything. Why did Caril lie, why did Wilson kill the girls?'

'It started a year ago, the apothecary Gregor, he came to Caril and he told her about how he'd been studying bodies, how they work, and he said that he had worked out a way to get rid of unwanted babies.'

'Why not use potions?' asked Ser Tallard.

'Easy for you to say. That stuff's hard to keep down and if you drink enough of it, it can kill you.'

'So Gregor decided to help out Caril's girls?' I aksed.

'Yes. He did it a few times and it ended well every time. Then Wendy happened and,' the poor girl started crying so I knelt down to be on her eye level and put my hand on her shoulder.

'It's alright,' I said as comfortingly as I could. 'Just tell us.'

'Sorry but, well, Wendy died under the knife and then her brother went to get revenge. He got drunk and shouted at Gregor so he ran away. The girls he killed, both of them went under the knife before Wendy did, they convinced her to go to Gregor when she got pregnant.'

'So he couldn't get the man who killed her and wanted the next best thing?'

She nodded her head.

'I'm sorry about all of this my dear, but there is one last thing. Where is Wilson? Do you know?'

'No, but Caril does know.'

'She does?' I asked, not expecting that. 'How do you know that?'

'He, he went to Caril after the murders, and demanded money. He told her that he had a good place to hide and if she didn't pay him he'd turn himself in and tell the Gold Cloaks about Gregor. Caril had been helping organise getting rid of the children so she'd hang with him.'

'I see,' I said and looked at my men. 'Let's go. Sendra, stay here, go to work in the morning, I'll sort out this mess.'

So we left the building and headed back to Visenya's, on the way Ser Tallard spoke to me.

'What are we going to do John?'

'I told what we're going to do. We're going to bloody well sort out this mess.'

'How?' asked Foor.

'This Wilson bastard, he's forced Caril and her girls into silence. We'll force him to be silent.'

…

On principle I am a man of my word, no matter the contract I do my job and I get my pay but I am proud to say that while doing this I try to do the right thing. It makes things harder but at least I can sleep easier at night.

I entered the butchers shop in the early afternoon, pretending to look at some cuts of meat while I looked at the group of butchers cutting meat and there he was. Wilson, his eyes mismatched and cutting mutton with a cleaver. I looked out to the street where my men were waiting and nodded, signalling for my men to come in.

Early that morning I entered Caril's brothel, without my men, and went straight up to speak to the owner. I found her looking over the books in her room and she was surprised to see me.

'John? How can I help you?'

'Caril, where is Wilson?'

'I thought finding him was your job.'

'It is, and you know where he is. Now tell me, where is Wilson?'

'What are you talking about?'

'I know that he is blackmailing you, that you've been helping your girls get rid of pregnancies. I won't ask again, where is Wilson?'

'So you know he's Wendy's brother?' I nodded. 'In that case, you know I can't tell you. If I do, then he's going to tell the Gold Cloaks everything and I'll die, my girls will be left without jobs and Littlefinger will probably take this place over.'

'I won't let that happen, but I'm not losing money over this,' I then explained to her my plan and her jaw dropped.

'You're willing to help us?'

'Of course I am. I can't approve of what you've done with Gregor, murder is murder, but I understand why, and it will be better for your girls if you're out here taking care of them.'

'Thank you. Wilson is working at a butchers shop on Lint Street.'

'Then I'll take care of him.'

So, that afternoon, as I found Wilson and my men entered the butchers, Synol and Foor remaining at the front door while Ser Tallard and Galin joined me at the back. By now everyone inside realised we were blocking escapes and I cleared my throat, locked eyes on the killer and shouted.

'Wilson! In the name of the king you are under arrest for murder!'

After that it was chaos, Wilson tried rushing to a nearby window but Synol beat him there, easily parrying the blow from the killers cleaver and kicked him in the groin, making the man drop his weapon and collapse. After that Tallard charged up to him and brought his mace down into Wilson's jaw with a sickening crack. A mix of blood, spit and teeth flew from the mouth and he hit the floor while Foor aimed a kick to jaw at the wounded man, destroying his jaw probably for ever. With that Gallin and Foor hoisted Wilson up by the arms and dragged him away.

…

'You actually got him.'

'You sound surprised.'

'I had a feeling you could do it, just not so quickly. If you want to join the Gold Cloaks properly I will recommend you.'

'No thank you,' I told Ser Joffrey the next day as we sat in my room on opposite sides of the deck. 'I prefer working my own business, much more profitable, which reminds me, my payment.'

To his credit, Ser Joffrey smiled a little when I brought it up so smoothly and he reached beneath his cloak and retrieved a leather pouch which he placed on my desk. Not trying to look too excited at my payment, I poured out the contents, fifty gold coins, each of them large, heavy and valuable. I counted them out, Ser Joffrey waiting, and it was all there.

'Might I ask why Wilson's jaw was shattered when you caught him?' he asked me.

'He resisted arrest. My men had to restrain him and in the process he took a mace to the jaw,' remembering my promise to Caril I then asked him the next point. 'Will he be able to talk again?'

'Not likely. Shame the man's illiterate too so he has no way of talking.'

'When's the execution?'

'A week. Will we see you at the hanging?'

'Probably not. Killing is killing, I've never liked it.'

'I can tell when someone's speaking with experience. If we need you again, Ship, we'll contact you.'

'I'll look forward to it, working for you people should bring a good payment in. While you're here can I offer you a drink with my men?'

'Not when I'm on duty, but thanks for the offer.'

Later, gathered around a table with my men, I led the cheers as they drank in celebration.

'I think I like working for you John,' Foor said as he finished his tankard.

'What's next for you?' asked Tallard.

'No idea,' I answered him. 'Still, with this word's getting around that we're the ones who brought Wilson in. I expect the workload's going to get higher very soon.'

'Well you know where to find us,' Gallin reminded him as Matti came over to the table.

'John, the man who wants to sell his place to you,' he said and that got my attention.

'Well?'

'He's pulling out because you took too long to get back to him.'

'Bugger,' I said and looked at my men who started chuckling at my expense. 'We'll just have to find another one. By the way,' I said and looked at my watch, grinning that the surprise was ready, 'Matti, you'd better get out of here.'

'Why?'

'Something's about to happen that you're too young to see.'

'I want to see it.'

'I'll give you a dragon if you leave.'

'Yes sir.'

I gave him the coin and he was out of there waster than a white rabbit running to a carrot buffet.

'What are you planning?' asked Synol.

'A treat.'

The door then opened and Caril walked, went straight to the bar where the old inn keeper was waiting for her. He banged a mallet on the counter a few times to get everyone's attention.

'This woman wants to say something,' he announced and then went back to cleaning his mug.

'Everyone,' she said to the gathered crowd of patrons, 'as I'm sure many of you know, I am Caril, the owner of Blonde Blade. Some time ago, two of my girls were murdered and a patron of this inn, John Ship and his brave men over there,' she pointed to me and my boys, all of us raised out mugs in acknowledgment, 'brought the killer to justice. As a thank you, and an expression of my gratitude, we have something special to entertain all of the patrons here tonight at a tenth of the reduced rate, my girls.'

She then pulled a bell from inside her dress and rang it, the door was thrown open and thirty or so young women, all scantily clad danced in to the cheers of the men in the inn.

While I didn't indulge that night I can say that almost everyone else did and the party continued into the early hours. Just after all the young ladies entered I decided to go to bed so I made my way to the stairs, as usual a bit of a challenge with my cane, whan Caril stopped me.

'John,' she said softly, 'I am grateful for what you did, truly I am.'

'Just another day's work.'

'You're a rare thing in this city, a good man.'

'I try my best, but you're a good person yourself.'

'Hardly. I pushed Wendy into going under the knife. If it wasn't for me, this wouldn't have happened. I then did all I could to cover it up.'

'No you didn't. You put me on the trail of the apothecary.'

'I told you because I knew you'd learn about it sooner or later, I didn't want more reasons for you to suspect me.'

'It's more than that. A part of you, I think, wanted to see Wilson caught so you put me on the right path to get him. Thank you Caril. If you ever need me, you know where to find me.'


	6. Chapter 6

John Ship: PI

**AN: Well, when I came up with the idea for a detective series in Westeros just over a year ago and jotted down a few ideas I didn't expect it to become fairly popular very quickly. It's very humbling when I realise that something I wrote is entertaining so many people. Thank you to everyone who had favourited, followed and reviewed this story.**

**So, before the next mystery begins in this chapter, I would like to explain where this came from. Since I started on this site with Stranger in Middle Earth around four years ago, good God I can't believe it's been that long, I've always loved the idea of people from our world entering others, and having them be from the past is, I think, a good way of adding more story ideas and scenarios. **

**John Ship, as a character, is influenced by my favourite detectives from fiction, Inspector Morse, Detective Inspector Frost, Hetty Wainthropp and Vera Stanhope have all had a part in this shaping his character and my ideas of detective stories.**

**If you've watched any of the shows I just referenced then you'll see the style of stories I will probably go for and if you haven't, check them out, especially Hetty Wainthropp, that show is royally underappreciated.**

**Now, onto the story.**

The Case of the Servant

Part 1

'In my many years working as a Private Investigator I have come to notice certain patterns. First, no one is completely innocent. Everyone has secrets, everyone has something buried that they want to be kept secret. Ultimately, everyone is guilty of something, I have to find out what and, in the process, hopefully find the guilty party.'

'Well that's depressing,' said Foor as I finished telling him and the others that.

'It's the truth,' I reminded him.

The six of us, myself, Ser Tallard, Foor, Synol, Gallin and Matti, were sat around our usual table at Visenya's early in the morning, a week after catching Wilson, he had been hanged the night before, and we were waiting for out breakfast. I had invited them to have breakfast as an extra way of saying well done for a good few days of work.

'Alright lads,' said the waitress, a girl with a plain face and straw like hair, brought our food to us on a large tray.

'One bowl of fruit,' she said and passed it to Matti. 'Bread and wine,' she said and passed a plate and mug each to Foor and Gallin. 'Horn bread,' she said and passed the curved pastry to Synol. 'Salmon on bread with goats cheese,' to Ser Tallard. 'And your usual John.'

'Thank you my dear,' I said as the large plate was placed before me.

'What's that?' asked Matti as he looked at my breakfast.

'The best breakfast in the world,' I said and held up the large bun. 'Bacon and sausage sandwich with mushrooms and gravy.'

I had started ordering as much meat as possible on them, now I didn't need to worry about ration books or bribing the butcher or the spiv.

'Odd,' said Ser Tallard.

'It's not odd after it's eaten,' I told him and took a bite out of it. 'I remember, my dad had to have these at least once a week.'

'So your mother was good at cooking?' asked Gallin.

'Bacon, sausages, gravy and mushrooms, yes. Everything else, no. I remember once she was sick so my dad had to make breakfast himself, nearly burned the house down,' I laughed as I said it.

'How can a woman not be a good cook?' Foor said and shook his head, which did annoy me a little but, still, different world, of that I had now fully accepted, different rules. It wasn't Foor's fault he was a primitive.

'You see Foor, my mother was not like us. Her parents were pretty well off, owned half a dozen houses and got good rent off of all of them. Until she married my dad, she never had to do anything for herself. She was a smart one mind you. She used to read history books to me, my brother and my sister when we couldn't sleep.'

'I wish I could have met your mother,' said Ser Tallard.

'You wait till you're asked,' I said with sharp humour which made his cheeks blush as everyone laughed at him there.

'No, I mean she sounds like an interesting person to talk to.'

'Of course you did,' I said as I took another large bite out of my breakfast.

'So, when will you need us for another job?' asked Gallin.

'Nothing's coming up yet boys, but it will come.'

'Well our pay off the Wilson job's going to last us a while,' said Ser Tallard.

'Ideally I'd like to keep you as permanent workers,' I told them. 'Until I get my own place though that's not going to happen.'

I then finished my breakfast and wiped my lips with the provided napkin.

'Aren't you having anything else?' asked Gallin.

'No, I'm not eating much today. I've been invited to a party tonight with Dunoson Chorok.'

'Who?' asked Foor.

'Isn't he a merchant?' asked Tallard.

'He is. You see, just before we went out to catch Wilson, Sarafi, Dunoson's wife, had her necklace stolen and they hired me to find it. I did, and as an extra thank you they've invited me to a party tonight, with six courses.'

'Sounds lovely,' said Tallard.

'What are courses?' asked Matti.

'Each course is another round of food,' I told him. 'Anyway, I'm expecting a good evening and if you find me face first with my head in a bucket tomorrow morning, you know what caused it.'

Everyone got a good laugh at my expense there, little did we know that soon we would be working together again.

…

I travelled by horse towards the Corrok house, the horse was the cheapest I could get but it was still capable of getting me around the city. As for my clothes that night I may have spent a little too much on them, a long black cloak, red jerkin and black trousers with my own boots, of course I needed my specially made right boot to comfort some of the pain from my deformity. The manse of the Corrok family was a very nice one, a large main house with stables, a well and a gravel path leading up to the front, the whole complex surrounded by a wall slightly taller than a man. As I was getting off my horse, with some help from one of the houses servants, I looked at all the other beasts in there, and guessed that I was probably the last to arrive. It would only take a few moments to walk the short distance to the main house when a litter being carried by two large men entered. They carried it to the front doors and the curtains were opened for a woman to step out.

'Caril?' I asked, surprised to see her.

'Oh John,' she said, as surprised to see me as I was of her. 'I didn't think I'd see you again so soon.'

'Likewise. So, you know the Corrok family?'

'Of course. They come to my place once a week.'

'They what?'

'They attend my brothel once a week. They're from Lys, an interesting bunch. Why did they invite you?'

'I managed to get a stolen necklace back for them.'

'Oh that was you? Well, as I've come alone, would you like to escort me inside?'

'I'd be delighted to.'

The inside of the house itself was lavishly decorated with frescos on every wall depicting ships on roaring oceans, dragons duelling in the sky and great armies engaged in brutal battles. A servant showed us the way into the main living room which was already busy with the numerous other guests. As soon as we entered the large room a large man approached us with his arms wide open and a smile on his face.

'Caril!' he declared loudly and embraced her.

'Always lovely to see you Dunoson,' she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

'And John. I didn't know you knew Caril.'

'I managed to catch Wilson,' I explained.

'Oh of course, I remember now. Well done for that, well done indeed.'

'It was a pleasure sending that thug to do the hangman's dance.'

'It was a pleasure watching him doing the dance,' Caril added.

'Agreed. Anyway, enjoy the party, help yourselves to the drinks and then we'll head to the dining room.'

'Thank you,' said Caril.

It turned out that Dunoson was a man of exquisite taste who attracted a large number of important people. Caril was sitting with Sarafi, Dunoson's wife who I had done the necklace job for her, while I was standing elsewhere, a glass of Arbor gold in my hand, talking with one of the other guests, Septon Cooke, a skinny man wearing dark blue robes with a seven pointed star on his chest.

'So how did you come to know the Chorok's?' I asked him.

'Dunoson funds a lot of my charity work. True, I know his, hobbies, aren't what the Faith allows but,' he stopped as a servant girl handed Cooke a glass of red wine, he took it and looked the girl for a moment before she moved on, and then he went back to talking with me. 'What was I saying, yes, his and his wife's hobbies aren't condoned by the Faith but I think you know enough about the world to say that we must make compromises.'

'Yes of course. We must, to do the best we can. What sort of charity work do you do?'

'Soup kitchens for the poor in Flee Bottom, it stops them from eating out of those Bowls of Brown.'

'God, Gods,' I corrected myself quickly, 'know what goes into them.'

'John, I think I can say that even the Gods don't want to know what's in those bowls.'

We both had a good chuckle at that, almost immediately afterwards a pair of oak doors opened and Sarafi clinked a spoon against her glass.

'Food is ready, let's get in and have a good time.'

So we all filled in to the dining room, as well decorated as the rest of the house, where we sat around a long table decorated with candles, bright table cloth and large silver plates. I took my seat next to the Septon and another man named Ser Martyn Straw, much younger than myself and wearing clothes which must have cost a lot, a bushel of wheat sewn onto his tunics chest. He didn't say much, rather he was focused on the plates of food which, one by one, were placed before us. The food was exquisite, as I expected, lamb with mint sauce, honeyed chicken, large pies, small pies, bowls of vegetables and large plates of all other kinds of meat, all the while casks of all types of alcohol were being ferried out from a small side door, presumably leading to the kitchens and store rooms. I had not eaten so much food in one go since rationing was introduced.

After the final course was finished I leaned back in my chair, and let a long, satisfied sigh.

'Enjoyed it John?' asked Dunoson.

'Absolutely,' I answered, content in that moment.

Then a girl screamed.

That got everyone's attention, it was a scream of absolute terror and shock, coming from another part of the house.

'What was that?' asked Caril.

'Someone check,' said Dunoson and a couple of the servants went into the small door to check down there.

We sat there for a few moments in silence as we waited for news. That was when a young man, one of the servants, returned, his face as white as a ghost.

'Sallie,' he panted. 'She's dead.'

And with that I was on my feet, cane in hand and I began to make my way to the man.

'Where is she?' I asked him while there were gasps of shock from the other guests.

'In the salt store.'

'Show me.'

Dunoson and Cooke went with me as we went into the part of the house that guests were not meant to see, the stone walls bare and no decorations. The servant led me to a narrow door where I saw a young woman, the one who had handed Cooke a drink earlier, sitting by a wall, breathing quickly and heavily while he eyes were opened as wide as saucers.

'Is this it?' I asked.

'It is,' said Dunoson.

With that I stepped through the door and found myself at the top of a staircase about ten steps high and, at the bottom, lit by the faint candles on the wall, was a body. As I went down I saw blood on the fifth step, and then, at the bottom, was the corpse. A woman, about twenty five or thirty by my estimate, and dressed in a simple green dress, identical to those worn by the other serving girls at the house. Her hair was brown and matted with blood which was already pooling around her head on the floor. Needing a good look I picked a candle off of the wall and knelt down, carefully to keep as much weight as possible off my bad foot, and began my examination.

'Poor girl,' said Dunoson.

'Who is she?'

'Sallie. She's one of the servants. Terrible accident.'

'Accident?' I asked him.

'She must have fell down the stairs,' he said, although by his tone he wasn't sure, just looking for an obvious explanation.

'Possibly,' I agreed and I placed my hand on her head, her skin as cold as the stone floor. 'She's been dead for a while. Cold.'

'We've been wondering where she was all day,' he told me while I examined her passing the light over her, at the large wound on the back of her head.

'By my guess she tripped and struck her head on the step, knocked out at once. If anything she was asleep while she bled out or died at once.'

'So she didn't feel the pain?'

'Not for long. Oh shit.'

'What is it?' he asked and looked down at her, I was holding the candle over her neck.

'This wasn't an accident,' I told him.

'What do you mean?'

'This,' I said and pointed at a bruise on the side of her neck.

'What about it?'

'I've seen this wound before. This is a bruise left by a thumb which applied force to the neck.'

'You're saying someone broke her neck on purpose?'

'Yes,' I said and stood up. 'There's a murderer amongst us.'

'What do we do?'

'Summon the Gold Cloaks.'

I then went up the stairs where I found Cooke comforting the servant girl who I assumed found the body.

'Septon, I think you'd better get a Silent Sister.'

…

Much to my annoyance it took an hour for any of the Watch to arrive, and when they did they both had a look at the body and called for one of their bosses. While we waited for an officer we all sat in the living room, no one saying anything, while I paced for a bit, wondering what had happened.

At last a group of other Gold Cloaks entered the house and went straight to the salt room where they looked at the body and then their officer decided to speak with us. When he entered the living room I was glad that I recognised him.

'Ser Joffrey.' I said and shook his hand.

'Ship? What are you doing here?'

'I was invited for the party tonight. You've seen the body?'

'Yes. Unfortunate one.'

'Murdered.'

'You saw the bruise as well?'

'Of course. Apparently, she's been missing all day.'

'Well, since you did a good job at tracking down Wilson, will you be willing to assist us again?'

'Of course. Same price.'

'Good luck then. I wish we could do this ourselves, but we're stretched thin.'

'Are you?'

'Funds have been cut, again.'

'I see. Well, I'll handle this one.'

And so, again, I found myself handling a case for the City Watch, the hunt for Sallie's killer had begun.

**AN: And the case is afoot.**

**So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think and I'll get the next chapter up soon.**

**Review Responses:**

**mpowers045: Thanks for your review and I hope you liked this chapter.**

**Marsolino: I'm glad you liked the story and I'll edit the first chapter by the time the next chapter is up.**

**gasacan90: Well I've had a few reviews since then. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

**D72: Thanks for all of your reviews, I am really glad you liked the first two cases and you seemed to get what I was trying to do with John and this story, he doesn't go looking for fights or anything, he knows when to use force and when not to. Thanks for your reviews and I hope you enjoyed this story.**

**Willem Trialmont: I'm glad you enjoyed the first part of the story. Thanks for your review.**

**Thanks for reading, everyone, please review and let me know your thoughts. Have a great day folks.**


	7. Chapter 7

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews guys, the responses are at the bottom. Also, to clarify, John is currently in Westeros a year before the Greyjoy Rebellion.**

The Case of the Servant

Part Two

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, I stood in my room at the Inn, my men sitting before me while I began work on the board.

'Alright lads,' I said and with the chalk began to draw a crude stick figure of a woman. 'The victim is Sallie, a servant. Twenty eight years old, unmarried, no children. Killed by her neck being broken deliberately.'

'What else do we know?' asked Tallard.

'She has two main injuries,' I explained. 'Her broken neck, leaving a mark on the neck which suggests that the killer is most likely right handed,' I added a figure labelled "killer" with the note "right handed". 'The other wound is a blow to the back of the head. When I first saw the body I assumed that is what killed her before I saw the neck mark.'

'How bad was the head wound?' asked Foor.

'We'll work that out later,' I told them. 'The Silent Sisters have agreed to hold her body before burial so we can examine the wound. More important, there are two main lines of inquiry. One,' I wrote out each point as I said it, 'enemies. Did Sallie have enemies, who were they, why would they want her dead? Two, who were her friends? We need to locate her friends, her colleagues, her family, they might be able to tell us who her enemies were. When we work out that we can start finding suspects and then we are a step closer to the killer.'

'What's the plan then?' asked Gallin.

'We examine the body first, Foor, Synol, you two handle that. Look at the shape of the wound and any other injuries on her body.'

'You think she was attacked by other weapons?' asked Synol.

'Perhaps. Still, look for cuts to her hands, broken finger nails, things like that, anything that suggests she put up a fight.'

'And where will you be?' asked Foor.

'Where the body was found. I want to check for anything I missed, Tallard and Gallin, you're with me. You two will question the Chorok's and their servants, search Sallie's room and follow up on anything you find.'

'We'll handle it.'

'Good. Well gents, let's get to work.'

…

Tallard and Gallin got to work as soon as we got back to the house, and I went down to the salt store. While the body had been removed the blood stains were still there and, very carefully, I looked at this scene. I remember the first time I saw a dead man, it had been early in my career as a PI, just after I stopped working at the council. The man was been a career criminal who I had to identify. I almost vomited, a few years later I could eat food while looking at the most graphic of wounds and bodies. I know that sounds cold but it was a part of the job.

With a candle in hand I looked at the pattern of the blood, it had pooled around her body. However, as I examined the walls around the base of the stairs, I noticed it, tiny spots, hard to see against the dark stone of the wall. Therefore I puled out my magnifying glass and examined them carefully, nodding when I realised that my suspicions were correct. Blood splatter. I then went up the steps towards the blood on the stairs where I had assumed she had hit her head but this time I didn't even need to use the glass. That was not blood from an impact, it was smeared on. I could not see any finger prints in the blood but the pattern resembled a finger painting.

I went up the stairs again and made my way to the living room where Ser Tallard was busy interviewing the staff, notes in hand and pencil ready. I didn't intervene, I just listened to him as he followed my guide on how to do this.

'So, Robben,' he said to the man, 'you're the stable boy?'

'That's right.'

'So, what can you tell me about Sallie?'

'Not much to tell. She kept to herself mostly.'

'Then tell me what you know about her. Did she have any close friends?'

'Didn't you hear what I just said. She kept to herself.'

'She must have had friends.'

'Not her. She has a sister she did nothing but moan about but that's all.'

'When did you last see her?'

'The night before she died. I was cleaning the horses when she left the house, I'm not sure what it was for though. I think she might have been meeting up with a man.'

'You said she didn't have any friends.'

'Well I don't know for sure.'

'Did she look worried when you saw her?'

'I didn't see her face.'

'What about earlier in the day?'

'She worked in the house. I don't see her much.'

'Alright. Unless there's anything else you can go.'

And without a word Robben stood up and quickly left the room, clearly he was annoyed that he had been dragged away from his work.

'How did I do?' asked Tallard.

'Not bad. What do you think of him?'

'I'm not sure. He seemed evasive.'

'Agreed. Still, you'll find few people who ever want to help a detective. Remember what I said about everyone being guilty of something?'

'Yes, no wonder no one wants to help. Anyway, that was the last servant.'

'Anyone stand out? What about the girl who found the body?'

'Harriet, she's a cleaner. Apparently she noticed the door to the salt store was ajar and when she went to check if anyone was down there she saw the body.'

'Did she know anything about her?'

'Not much, all the servants agreed she kept to herself and her main hobby was complaining about her sister.'

'What do we know about her?'

'Betha, she's a year older and is the widow of Ser Frederich Able.'

'Well she got a good match. We'll need to talk to the sister then, she might know something.'

'If they don't like each other then doesn't that suggest she's a suspect?'

'Possibly. Still, we have no leads. It's better than nothing. Also, we need to find this man she may have been seeing. Let's check on Gallin.'

The servant quarters in the house were actually better than the ones at the Red Keep, fairly large and comfortable enough. Sallie's room contained a dresser, a small wardrobe and a bed, as well as a small chest. Gallin had been through everything and he'd found nothing out of place by the time we arrived.

'I can't find anything odd,' he said as he opened a tiny box he found in the chest, opened it and saw it was empty, only a small circular shaped inlet on the inside and the name _Ilse _carved into the wood.

He was about to discard it when I stopped him and took hold of the little box.

'Is it important?' Gallin asked me.

'More often than not the absence of something is just as important as the presence of something. This is empty but clearly something was meant to fit in here.'

'A ring,' said Tallard. 'This is a ring box.'

'Then where is the ring?' I asked them.

'Maybe she was wearing it when she was killed?' suggested Gallin.

'She didn't have a ring on when I inspected the body,' I told them.

'Maybe that's why she was killed,' Gallin suggested. 'You know, to cover the ring being stolen.'

'Doesn't explain the broken neck _and _the head wound,' I said while I thought about this and slipped the box into my pocket. 'This is more than just a robbery gone wrong, though it might still be a factor. Let's head back to the Inn. With any luck Foor and Synol have found something with the corpse.'

…

'Alright,' I said as I made my latest additions to the board. 'Her parents were Ilse and Geog,' I added them onto it, 'both killed when Tywin Lannister sacked the city. Her sister, Betha, her sister, does not get on well with her. She is a widow of Ser Frederich Able of Bright Stone Castle.'

'Sallie also went out the night before she was killed,' added Ser Tallard. 'Several of the servants suspected her of going out to see a man, but they don't know who.'

'We'll have to check the locals inns,' I concluded. 'See if anyone saw her. 'Now, Synol, Foor, what did you two find?'

'The body had no wounds on the hands,' said Foor. 'The gash in her head looked like this,' he said and drew it on the board, a narrow, jagged wound.

'What caused it?' I asked.

'I reckon it looks like the back end of an axe,' he suggested.

'Finding the weapon will be hard and in this case pointless,' I concluded. 'Every house has an axe in it. On top of that, it's likely that the head wound was caused to disguise the true cause of death, being the broken neck, it was done after the corpse was left there.'

'How do you know?' asked Gallin.

'Blood splatter,' I explained. 'Small drops of blood sprayed on the wall near the body, it means that the blunt weapon hit Sallie's head near there.'

'So what do we do?' asked Foor.

'We find the man,' I said and drew on the figure of a man. 'And we will talk to the sister. Where is Bright Stone?'

'About half a days ride south of the city,' said Tallard. 'I used to work for Ser Frederich.'

'Do you know Betha?'

'No, he married her after I left his service.'

'I see. Well, it doesn't matter. Tallard, tomorrow we'll be riding there to talk to Lady Able, Foor, Synol, Gallin, you three will check the inns and taverns near the Chorrok house. If anyone knows Sallie, ask them about the man.'

'Understood,' said Foor. 'We'll work out who it was.'

…

That night as I sat in my room reading through some of the notes written by Tallard via candle light, I turned my attention to the framed necklace hanging on the wall, the necklace I had been hired to locate which, in a way, resulted in me being brought to this city. It made me think for a while as to what the Hell I was doing. I was carrying on like normal when I was in the midst of a scenario I would rarely see outside of my nephew's pulp book, which in turn made me think of Howard and Susan, my brother and sister, and I held back a few tears. It was a shame, if I didn't find a way back I'd never see them again. I just had no idea how to get back, aside from wondering out in the next storm sticking a spear in the air and hoping I'd get lucky. On top of that I'd risk ending up in a far worse universe, or a far better one, something like that fellow Tolkien wrote. Or I'd end up in the midst of the Roman Conquest or the Jacobite Risings, or, more likely, get electrocuted. Perhaps it was best I'd just stay here and take things as they come.

That reminded me, I looked at the papers Matti had brought me earlier, a deal to purchase a large property to base myself. It had been run down since the Rebellion but, with some time and effort, could be refurbished. I'd made arrangements to inspect the property myself in a couple of days, hopefully I could manage it between investigating Sallie's death.

My eyes turned towards the board, now hard to see in with the small amount of light offered by the candle. All the facts we knew so far were on there but the image was still incomplete, with any luck our visit to Betha the next day would help clear things up but, for now, I was looking at pieces without any idea of how they all fit together.

…

Bright Stone Castle deserved its name, the caste, made up of an outer wall, an inner keep and a small cluster of houses and an inn outside of it, were in all in white washed stone. The gates were open for us and we dismounted our horses and walked straight towards the keep, on the way passing a dozen or so men at arms wearing gambesons and basic iron caps, armed only with basic wood cutting axes and billhooks.

'Not exactly a mighty force,' I said to Tallard.

'The Able's aren't a mighty family. They're a cadet branch of the Rosby's.'

'I see. Let's pay her ladyship a visit.'

The inside of the castle was fairly well decorated, though it was simple compared to the Chorok house. One of the servants, a large man named Genim, escorted us through the keep up to a small solar on the top floor, my cane slowing us down a little as we went.

'Wait here,' Genim told us as he opened the door. 'Lady Able will be here soon.'

'Thank you,' I responded and sat down on a chair before the main desk of the solar.

'I take notes,' said Tallard. 'You ask the questions.'

'You're catching on,' I remarked.

'I think I like working for you, John. Your jobs are always interesting.'

'I don't want to bore you or the others. What sort of a man was Ser Frederich?'

'A good man altogether. He was brave, clever and quick, took care of his servants and always made sure we got paid.'

'Why did he marry Betha?'

'I wasn't there but a friend of mine who worked here at the time said it was because he fell in love.'

'Did he? That's odd for a man in his position.'

'He was a good man.'

The door then opened and I stood up to see a woman and for a moment I was shocked at who I saw, for I had seen her exact image dead at the bottom of a stair case not long before. Betha looked just like her sister, the only difference I could notice was due to one being alive and the other dead. Her hair was done up into an ornate fashion common amongst the noble women of Kings Landing, a gold and silver necklace around her neck and several rings on her fingers. Her eyes looked heavy and slightly red with tears.

'Betha Able?' I asked her.

'That's me. You're here about my sister?' she asked and slowly, with a great deal of dignity, walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down.

'Naturally. My name is John Ship, PI.'

'PI?'

'Private Investigator.'

'So, you will find Sallie's killer?'

'I certainly will.'

'Good.'

'I will need to ask you a few questions though.'

'What for?'

'I need information about what type of a person Sallie was. Her enemies, her friends. In my experience most people who are murdered knew their killer, so any information is vital.'

'I'll help if I can.'

'Good. So, when was the last time you saw Sallie?'

'The day before she, erm, the day before she died. I'm sorry John, it's difficult for me right now.'

'I understand what it's like loosing family.'

'I'm sorry,' she said and looked at me with a knowing one.

'So, where did you see her?'

'We met for supper at a tavern called the Green Crown.'

'What for? Was it just supper or was it something else?'

'It's personal. You have to understand, when I married Frederich me and Sallie fell out. We said some things which we both regretted, and we ended up not talking for a long time. Recently we started talking again and we met for supper once a month. But now, but now,' she allowed a few tears to fall from her eyes before she brushed them away. 'I'm sorry John. It's just, we've been talking again and now, some filthy monster tore her away from me!'

At that she broke down and, remembering how I felt when I received the telegram of my brothers passing in North Africa, I put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'It's alright Lady Able. Take your time.'

'Thank you. It's just, oh it's just so wrong.'

'I know it is but I'm going to do whatever it takes to bring justice. Now, I have heard a rumour that she may have gone to see a man the night before she died, did you know anything about it?'

'I don't think so. She was very private even when we were girls so she wouldn't have told me.'

'Did she say anything that indicated she was worried?'

'No not really.'

'Not really?'

'Well, it's probably nothing but she said something about a Septon, Septon Cooke.'

At that me and Tallard looked at each other for a moment and then I looked back at Betha.

'What did she say?'

'That he was always at the Chorok's house. I know he does charity work and needs them for the money but, he's always there over the smallest thing.'

'And that worried her?'

'I don't think it worried her but she did bring it up a few times so it was probably playing on her mind.'

'Is there anything else you can tell us?'

'I don't think so,' she answered.

'I see. If you think of anything, I can be found at Visenya's Rest, an Inn at the city. If I'm not there leave a message with Kans, he'll be at the bar.'

'I understand. Well, I need to get back to the children,' she said and stood up. 'It's hard, not having a husband to help me with them.'

'I understand, helped a lot with my brothers' bairns.'

'Thank you for coming John. If I think of anything I'll be there, or I'll send someone anyway.'

'Goodbye for now then,' I said and then turned back to her. 'Actually there is one other thing, who is Ilse?'

'Ilse?'

'I heard it mentioned abut Sallie. Who is she?'

'Ilse is, was, our mother.'

'Thank you. Until next time.'

…

Back at Visenya's the next day, we spent the night after riding to Bright Stone at the local inn before heading back to the city, in my room we discussed the case while I made additions to the board.

'I checked the Green Crown,' said Synol. 'The inn keepers wife remembered Sallie and Betha having a meal there the night before the killing.'

'So that matches up with the timeline,' I said. 'Looks like the mystery man might have just been a rumour, unless one of you found anything.'

'Nothing,' Foor told me. 'When she was seen it was by herself spending her money on drink and food alone.'

'I see. In that case, we turn our attention to Septon Cooke. Gallin, you'll start watching him.'

'I understand.'

'If he does anything suspicious, let me know. It might be important.'

'Of course.'

I looked at my men and then at the board, wondering just what the good Septon was up to and if it was important to my case. How long would it take for the killer to emerge?

**AN: Review Response Time:**

**Mpowers045: Thanks for your review. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

**Gasacan90: Well this chapter was a bit longer than the last one. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for the review.**

**Raw666: Okay first, cool name. Second of all, thanks for your review. In time John will begin to use his 20****th**** century knowledge of science to help but for now it's good old-fashioned detective work.**

**Jack Redhawke: Always good to see one of my early reviewers still enjoying my stuff. Thanks for the review and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story. Have a great day.**

**BattleUnit3: Thanks for your review and I'm glad you enjoyed the other chapters. **

**Someguy the anon: Yeah, I really like trying to do stuff that's different and I'm glad you're enjoying this one.**

**A reader: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far.**

**Again, thanks everyone who has reviewed the story and to those who had added it to their favourites list. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review. Have a great day everyone.**


	8. Chapter 8

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Eight

**AN: Sorry this one took so long but I've been pretty preoccupied lately and have been hit with a bit of writers block. Anyway, here it is, hope you enjoy.**

The Case of the Servant Part Three

Two days later, while Gallin was responsible for surveillance on the Septon, I was walking through a large house on a side street about a ten minute walk from Visenya's, Matti following me and to my right was a man named Tall Howard, he owned the property and had been trying to sell it for a great deal of time.

'As you can see it's a large place. Enough room for a family or can be turned into a small inn. Whatever you want.'

'Why are you selling it?'

'It was my parents place but they're gone now and, well, I don't want to keep it anymore.'

'I understand. Well, I think I'll take it. How much do you want to sell it for?'

'Fifty dragons.'

'Thirty,' I offered.

'Thirty, that's ridiculous.'

'I'll need you to negotiate at least. Forty?'

'Forty eight.'

'Forty five?'

'Forty seven, that's it.'

'Deal,' I agreed and shook his hand firmly. 'I'll see you at Visenya's in an hour and you'll have the cash.'

'I'm glad to hear it.'

'And I'll buy you a drink or two,' I offered, I never liked making a deal without at least some alcohol being exchanged, a habit I picked up from some American airmen I met back in 1943.

Tall Howard left the place but left me for a while to have one last look at the house. There were three floors, including the attic, and a small cellar. There was also a yard at the back which I could make into a place for horses. Yes, this could certainly work.

'What are you going to build here John?' Matti asked me.

'I'll be living in the house when it's rebuilt,' I explained. 'I think there's also enough room for my men, and a place for you as well.'

'Really?' he asked, almost jumping up and down.

'Yes really. I think I can also put in a shop in the front as well and rent it out to someone, a little extra money never hurt anyone. I'll also be adding a laboratory.'

'What's a laboratory?'

'A place to do complex work in my cases. Anyway, thanks for coming lad,' I then gave him three silver coins and he hurried off, leaving me alone to look at the place I was soon to own. It would take a lot of work but I had just found my new office, and perhaps a few other business ideas were working their way around my head as well.

I'd think more on that later, for now I had more important things to do, finding a killer for example.

Considering that my next destination was obvious, Flea Bottom, to a small Sept where a soup kitchen was busy serving food. There was a pair of Septa's standing by a large table, one manning a large cauldron of soup and the other at a sack of small bread rolls. A long line of the poverty stricken citizens of the city stood before the table, each of them holding a small bowl and spoon. Quickly walking about the small square the Sept stood in was Septon Cooke, making sure there was no chaos in the line and speaking with the people who relied on him. I walked towards Cooke at a steady place and he saw me when I was about ten yards away.

'Oh John, it's good to see you.'

'You as well Septon. Impressive work you're doing here.'

'You can thank the Chorok's more than me. They're paying for all of this.'

'What sort of soup is it?'

'A bit of everything. Carrots, turnips, potatoes and leaks with a bit of muton.'

'Actually, sounds lovely. Then again I lived on rations for six years.'

'Rations? Were you in a siege?'

'Sort of. England, that's my home land, is an island and we brought a lot of our food in from overseas. Now, we went to war and the enemy navy had a lot of very fast ships which destroyed a lot of our food transports so, we had to ration everything except bread.'

'How awful.'

'You don't know the half of it. Mind you, the local butchers always had a few sausages for their friends.'

'The lady friends I guess.'

'Precisely,' I said and we both laughed.

'Shame about rationing. In war it's always the small folk who get the worst while they,' he pointed to the Red Keep and then the Sept of Balor, 'dine on the finest meats every night.'

'England did better, even old King George and the queen had rations.'

'Really?'

'That's right.'

'He must be a man of integrity.'

'Aye he is. Bloody awful speaking in public though.'

'Was he?'

'I saw him make a speech at a place called Wembley and it was agony for everyone, including him. Stammer.'

'Horrible thing to have.'

'He managed though. Still, I'd rather have a bad voice than this,' I said and tapped my right boot with my cane, the padding allowing me to not feel the blow.

'What was your problem anyway? Your foot I mean?'

'Club feet at birth. My parents spent a lot of money to get it fixed, the surgeon managed it on my left foot perfectly but my right foot he buggered it up.'

'Terrible when the men we trust fail us. You know I meant to go and see you soon.'

'You did?'

'Of course, I want to see how your investigation's going.'

'Natural I suppose. It was good of you, you know, taking care of that poor girl who found the body,' I said, keeping the tone light and conversational. When interrogating someone, in my experience, there were two ways to go. Not let them know you were interrogating them or come down hard on them. In this case, making it a conversation was best, for now at least.

'Well thank you John. I couldn't let Harriet sit there sobbing. Terrible thing she saw.'

'How is she doing anyway?'

'Not bad, shaken but pulling through.'

'So you've seen her since then?'

'I'm at the Chorok house a lot.'

'Understandable, how else could you afford to do all of this?'

'I do my own small part to give the people of this city a better life.'

'And that's what really counts in the end. My mother told me that our duty is to leave the world a better place than the one we found.'

'Wise words indeed John.'

'I always thought so. Anyway, have the Chorok's replaced Sallie yet?'

'Yes, Harriet's taken over.'

'Has she?'

'Yes.'

'Well that's some good luck for her. Sallie's job was to coordinate the cleaners wasn't it?'

'That's right. Harriet's excellent for the post.'

'Well at least some good's come out of this mess for her.'

'I suppose so.'

'Well, I shouldn't keep you from your duties any longer. It's been good talking to you Septon.'

'Thank you John. Take care and good luck.'

I walked away from the soup kitchen and towards an alley nearby where I found Gallin, continuing his watching.

'Did you get anything?' he asked me.

'A little. You've been watching him for a week, what's his pattern?'

'Every few days he goes to the Tanner's Wife and doesn't leave until late at night.'

'Then I'll check what they offer.'

'It could just be his favourite place.'

'Then I'll check how decent the food and ale is.'

'Shouldn't you wear something else?' he asked. 'No offense John, but with your foreign clothes you look like the a mad man.'

'Or the only sane man,' I reposted with a grin that Gallin chuckled at. 'Don't worry, I've already bought local clothes, they'll help me fit in.'

'I hope so.'

'They will. You see, I always dress like this because people associate it with me. Tartan coat, trilby, waistcoat, tie, it's what they expect to see me wearing. When I'm dressed like everyone else, I'll be harder to spot.'

'Yes because everyone wears one boot bigger than the other.'

'At least I actually own boots. In this part of town I'm worried some little twit will ty to steal them.'

'You wouldn't be the first. I'll keep watching the Septon.'

My "disguise" as in normal clothes was a white tunic, grey wool cloak and green trousers. Perfectly fine for what I would be doing. It was late at night and I entered the Tanner's Wife, no, not in that way now and clean out your brain you filthy bastard. It was typical of the many inns and taverns all over the city and I made my way to a small table at the side where a bar maid took my order of cider and mutton, and I waited. About ten minutes later, Septon Cooke, though not wearing the usual garb of a Septon, stepped into the room and went to a table which was already occupied. I watched him for a moment and then, finally, I turned my attention to his companion and my jaw dropped.

It was Harriet, the servant who had found the body and now she was having a meal with the Septon.

Now, I thought to myself, things were getting interesting.

…

'You shouldn't have gone alone John,' Foor told me bluntly the next morning back in my office.

'He's right,' Ser Tallard agreed. 'One of us should have gone with you. Even Matti should have gone with you.'

'I had to keep a low profile,' I told them as I worked on the board.

'I'm on John's side here,' said Gallin. 'We're not exactly subtle are we?'

'What did you find out?' asked Synol, not voicing on whose side of the argument he was on. 'After you saw Cooke and Harriet?'

'After they ate they went up to the rooms in the inn and I bribed the inn keeper to tell me which room they went to. Put my ear at the door and, well,' I said and nodded. 'I think you can guess what I heard on the other side.'

'So the Septon's fucking the servant?' asked Foor, still annoyed at me but interested in what I discovered.

'Yes. Now, how does this link to Sallie?'

'You said that Harriet got Sallie's old job,' said Tallard. 'Maybe that's a reason for murder.'

'A weak one but possible. What normally happens to a Septon when he's found sleeping around?'

'Depends how important they are,' said Tallard. 'With someone like Cooke it's usually ignored if he's keeping it quiet.'

'But Harriet's connected to a murder,' I said. 'Not easy to keep quiet.'

'What I was thinking,' said Gallin. 'So maybe Sallie caught them in the act and Cooke killed her to keep her quiet.'

'Possible. He sees his work in Flee Bottom as vital, what's one life against feeding hundreds? Then again, I don't think he has it in him, not unless he's desperate.'

'Life's cheap in this city,' Foor reminded me.

'Too cheap,' I agreed. 'There are days when I hate this city. It doesn't matter, it's possible that Cooke and Harriet killed Sallie.'

'Where's the ring then?' asked Synol. 'Sallie's ring is still missing, whoever has it is the killer.'

'Probably. We need to search Harriet's room,' I concluded. 'I need an excuse though.'

'You think she's a killer,' said Foor. 'That's enough reason.'

'I know that but if she and Cooke are innocent, I can't risk the Septon's food relief in the slums. I need a good excuse.'

'How about her promotion?' suggested Tallard. 'That could be a justification.'

'A weak one but maybe the only one. Alright, we'll try it, if we find the ring, I'll throw her in the cells myself.'

'What about her spilling the truth over she and the Septon?' asked Foor.

'The Wilson treatment,' I told them.

'I can't do that to a woman,' Foor told me. 'I refuse to do that.'

'We'll work something else out then.'

Just then there was a knocking on the door and I nodded at Synol who threw a large sheet over the board.

'Come in,' I said when the writing was concealed and Ser Joffrey entered, his face one of urgency.

'John, I need you right now.'

'What's happened?' I asked as I went to get my coat and hat.

'Earlier today Lady Betha Able arrived in this city, you know her.'

'Yes, I spoke to her. What's happened?'

'Someone tried to kill her.'

…

Betha was of course distressed by the time I arrived at the Gold Cloaks barracks which Ser Joffrey was based at. She and her guards were in Joffrey's solar with a few of the Gold Cloaks. Betha's eyes were red from tears, the marks of which still stained her face.

'I need to speak with her,' I told Joffrey, we were a short distance from Betha.

'And you will.'

'Did you catch the killer?'

'Yes, he's in the cells below. You can talk to him as well.'

'Generous of you.'

'This might be connected to your mystery. I'm not going to get in your way, just don't break the King's Peace.'

'I bloody well won't.'

I then approached Betha and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'Mind if I sit down?' I asked her.

She nodded so I sat down next to her.

'Why?' she just sobbed.

'I'll find out.'

'Did he do it?' she asked me and I knew what she meant.

'I don't know if he killed your sister but if he did, I'll lock him up.'

'I want him hanged!' she hissed at me but suddenly all the venom drained from her voice. 'I'm sorry John. It's just, I lost Sallie and I can't die now, not now.'

'You're under a lot of stress, I know. I remember when my brother died, I felt like, I felt like a puppet, just doing what I had to do and not feeling anything.'

'How did he die? Only tell me if you want. I know it hurts.'

'He went to war,' I explained. 'He went across the sea and fought for King and Country at a place called El Alamein. He was one of the officers and four of his men were wounded. He carried two of them personally back but when he, when he went for the third he was shot but he kept going. He got all four of them out before he died, he was a hero.'

'My sister wasn't. She was killed alone in the dark.'

'You said you and your sister fell out a long time ago,' I said, remembering the facts.

'We did.'

'Which of you started talking to the other again first?'

'It was,' she said and stopped, looking at a memory. 'It was her, it was Sallie.'

'It takes guts to do what she did, to reconnect to family gone separate ways. She was brave.'

'Thank you. I came here to collect her,' she told me. 'I wanted to bring her back with me to my castle and bury her there.'

'She would have liked that.'

'I hope so. It's right that my children should be able to go to her as well.'

'I know what you mean. Now, have you thought of anything else that could help?'

'No I haven't. I mean, that man who attacked me, he could count as one.'

'I understand. If that's all, I'll go and have a word with the thug.'

She said nothing else so I and Ser Joffrey went downstairs to the cells where I found Betha's attacker sitting alone on the bed of his cell. He looked unkempt and rough but above all else angry, most likely at his imprisonment ad failure to kill Betha. My men were already in there watching him.

'Well,' I said to the man, 'do you want to tell me why you tried to kill Lady Betha or should my men here beat it out of you?'

'Go fuck yourself.'

I saw Foor tighten the grip on his weapon.

'It never fails to amaze me that you lowlifes rarely seem capable of coming up with decent insults. Here's one for you to use when you go to the Wall. "You are a fine example of the issues caused when the brain is smaller than the mouth". Start talking, tell me everything. What's your name.'

He was silent for a few moments but Gallin was the one who answered.

'His name's Robben, the stable hand at the Chorok house.'

'He is?' I asked, not expecting that and now I recognised him. I saw him there on the night of the party.

'I questioned him at the start of the investigation.'

'In that case we'll look over your notes later. As for you Robben, we know you tried to kill Betha, and we know you had access to the place Sallie worked. Why did you kill Sallie.'

It was time to be blunt, to push him.

'I didn't kill Sallie.'

'You expect me to believe that?'

'I do because it's true. I didn't kill her,' he then looked at me with a twisted, rage filled face, 'but I was planning on it.'

Me and my men looked at each other with some surprise, needless to say none of us were expecting that.

'You were going to kill Sallie but someone else got her first?' asked Tallard. 'That's either an odd coincidence or she was very unpopular.'

'Why did you want to kill Sallie?' I asked.

'Because I want Betha dead.'

'You wanted to kill Sallie to kill Betha?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Because I couldn't get into Bright Stone. I needed her here, so how better to bring her here than to get her sisters corpse.'

'So your plan went perfectly well,' I said as I walked from one end of the cell to the other, not even looking at Robben. 'Sallie's dead, Betha arrived and then you messed it up by being a useless assassin. Doesn't explain why you wanted her dead though.'

'The Able's ruined everything.'

'How?'

'I'm a bastard. My father was Ser Frelo Horasha.'

'You're Frelo's son?' asked Ser Joffrey, clearly stunned.

'Who was Frelo?' I asked him.

'He was a Gold Cloak, used to be in charge of this barrack. I served under him.'

'When Tywin Lannister sacked this city Frederich Able was with him. His army past Bright Stone so the Able's went with him. Frederich fought and killed my father.'

'Frelo died doing his duty,' Joffrey told Robben. 'Ser Frederich had no choice but to join the sack. I talked to him after the fighting was done and Lannister would have put Bright Stone to the torch if he didn't go.'

'He still killed my father. I want justice!'

'By killing two innocent women?' I asked him.

'I didn't kill Sallie! I wanted to but someone beat me to it!'

'You have given me no reason to believe you,' I told him. 'Either the Wall or the Gallows are your next stop.'

We then left the cell, leaving him locked up in there, and once we were out of earshot I turned to Joffrey.

'At the moment I'd give the odds of him being the killer eight out of ten.'

'I agree. What's your next move?'

'I want to search his room at the Chorok house and there's another trail I want to close before I make any more moves.'

'Alright. If you need my men we'll be there.'

'Thank you,' I then turned back to me men and nodded. 'Let's get back to work.'

Once we were up in the street again I grinned.

'And now we have an excuse to look at Harriet's room as well.'

'The Seven are watching out for us,' said Tallard.

'They bloody well better be.'

As we headed to the home of the Chorok family I tried to put this together in my head, Roben was a good suspect but there was still the issue with Cooke and Harriet. I wanted them off the suspect list but I didn't realise at the time that this case was about to get a great deal more interesting indeed.

**AN: Again, I am so, so, so, so sorry that this one took so long. This chapter was difficult to write but it is rewarding. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and that this story is entertaining you. So please, let me know your theories and ideas on the case. Also, I have the next case planned out for John Ship and his team of crack detectives/hired goons.**

**Review Responses:**

**Someguy the anon: Thanks or your review and I'm glad you enjoyed it. I think I could have made it clearer but Sallie was seen with her sister at the bar in question. I made a mistake by writing it as a single line thing. Again, thanks for the review, hope you enjoyed this one.**

**BattleUnit3: Don't worry, it won't be long until John and his team enter the big leagues of Westeros.**

**Raw666: Interesting idea, we shall see what happened.**

**Supermus85: Thanks for your review, and an interesting theory.**

**Oi Teme: Don't worry I have plans to see John and his men brought into the major events of Westeros. Thanks for your reviews and I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far.**

**OK everyone, have a great day and please review, I adore reading them.**


	9. Chapter 9

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**AN: WARNING! I UPLOADED THE WRONG VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER EARLIER. PLEASE IGNORE THAT AND READ THIS VERSION. I AM SORRY.**

**AN: And after the last one you expected me to take a while. Well, I had a burst of creativity and I did this in one go. I hope you enjoy.**

**PS, Geordie/Mackem accented writing appears in this chapter. Be prepared for it.**

The case of the Servant Part Four

'Half a day of digging through his room got us,' I said as I looked at my men in my office at Visenya's.

'Nothing,' they all echoed.

'No sign of the ring,' I went on, 'neither in Robben's or Harriet's rooms.'

'It's obvious that she was killed by Robben,' said Foor. 'We throw him on the gallows.'

'Except for the fact that his plan makes no sense,' said Tallard. 'He looses his father to Ser Frederich, he dies so he tries to get revenge on Frederich's wife and the mother of his children. That makes sense, but his plan doesn't. A woman like Betha Able would come to this city for a lot of reasons, dress fittings, perfume shopping, attending court, a tourney. It makes no sense to kill Sallie to get her here.'

'Just what I was thinking,' I agreed. 'There are still pieces that don't fit. We can conclude that Robben is involved in the murder but we don't know to what extent.'

'And why would he be the one sent to kill?' asked Synol. 'Why not an assassin if he's one part of a larger puzzle?'

'Which is why we investigate our only active lead left,' I said and pointed to the board. 'Septon Cooke and Harriet.'

'What do you mean by investigate?' asked Foor.

'We go to the Tanner's Wife and confront them while they have their trousers down, literally.'

'Oh really?' Foor said with an excited look on his face.

'Someone hit Foor,' I ordered, and he was suddenly at the receiving end of a bombardment of nuts, raisins and a quill. 'Anyway, if Cooke keeps to his schedule, he'll be at the Tanner's Wife tonight so in the meantime we'll go through the timeline again,' I then pointed to the timeline on the board. 'At eight o'clock at night the day before the killing, Sallie was at the Green Crown having supper with Betha. They finish at around ten and Betha goes up to her room at the Crown while Sallie heads back to the Chorok house. Sallie is seen the next morning doing her usual jobs at the Chorok house and is not seen again until she is found dead that night. On the night before the killing Robben was not at his usual post, he was somewhere in the city, apparently buying horse feed, but he doesn't say where, and is next seen at the house around the time Sallie goes missing. He is next seen by Caril, Septon Cooke, myself and other guests as we arrive for the party.'

'We know that Roben was there to kill her,' said Tallard, 'but when did Betha leave the city?'

'About noon the day of the killing.'

'So he could have gone after Betha then,' Tallard went on.

'Maybe he wanted to make Betha suffer by killing the sister,' Foor suggested. 'I've met a lot of sick fuckers in my time who like doing stuff like that.'

'It's possible,' I agreed. 'Roben's disturbed over his fathers death and wants revenge.'

'I disagree,' said Tallard. 'Yes, he's disturbed but he's still rational, what he's done took planning.'

'We're running out of options,' I told them as I looked in frustration at the board again. 'If we can't get anything out of the Septon tonight, I don't know if we can solve the case completely.'

'Then we get ready to talk to the Septon,' said Tallard. 'He might know something and if not we go through everything again. Either way, we have enough evidence to prove that Robben was the killer.'

'I'd rather have the mastermind behind the plan with him,' I told Tallard. 'One man on the gallows is a lonely sight.'

…

That night me and my men walked through the empty streets of the city, the only noise being the bawdy songs emerging from the taverns that didn't close until just before sunrise, and the occasional ringing of mail from the Gold Cloak patrols. A few stopped us but when I told them my name they let us go, it looked like my reputation with the City Watch was spreading. Anyway, the Tanner's Wife was still open, though when we went in the men and women in the common room were only partially awake or sleeping under the tables. The exceptions were the singer who was counting money on the counter with the innkeeper.

'We're closed,' the innkeeper told us.

'Gold Cloak business,' I told them and went up the stairs, as quietly as I could, ignoring the two at the counter, though out of the corner of my eye I saw the two of them shrug and continued counting money.

We went along to the same room Cooke had occupied the other night and I put my ear to the door, there wasn't much noise but I could just a make out a soft gasping.

'They're in there,' I whispered to my men and pulled out my lockpicks, crouching down to the lock.

'Can you crack it?' asked Foor.

'It's a cheap lock,' I answered him and in twenty seconds there was a click as the lock came un done.

'Alright,' I whispered again, 'this is the plan. I go in last, the four of you first. March to the bed and surround it, keep them on there. I come in, close the door and start with the questions. Remember, keep quiet.'

'We're ready when you are,' said Synol as he drew his slender sword.

'Alright,' I nodded and stood back. 'Go.'

Tallard was in first, followed by Foor, then Gallin and Synol last. I heard a gasp of shock from inside and after a moment I entered, closing the door behind me before turning my gaze to the condition of the room. There was an empty wine bottle on the small table, a pair of glasses with red stains still in them, a plate of cheese and biscuits, mostly gone though I picked up a lump of the remaining cheese and ate it. I next looked to the bed, which was surrounded by my men and on it, beneath the sheets, was Harriet, holding the sheet up to her chest, and Septon Cooke, looking terrified.

'Good cheese,' I told them as I stepped up to the foot of the bed. 'You know, if you're going to have a mistress, Septon, have sex in a place with decent locks.'

'What do you want?' Cooke asked me. 'If you want money you can have it but John, I thought you were my friend.'

'I am,' I told him, 'and no, I don't want your money. I want information.'

'About Sallie?' asked Harriet.

'Yes. I understand from Betha Able that you, Septon, have been seen spending a lot more time than needed at the Chorok house. Naturally that can be explained away by needing money for your charity work but, well, it's obvious now, you wanted to see Harriet.'

'That's right,' he said, still, holding the sheets up to his naval.

'I don't blame you.'

'You're not going to report this?'

'No, you're not the first man of the cloth to not keep his cloth on,' I said and leaned forward a little on my cane. 'Now, I think the only reason Sallie would have mentioned this to her sister would be that she suspected you two of being together? Did she?'

'She knew,' Harriet admitted. 'Cooke got me the job there, we've been together for years, and Sallie was suspicious of me from the start. She followed me to a shed where we used to see each other and she saw us, broke in and made demands.'

'She was black mailing you?' asked Tallard.

'Yes,' said Cooke. 'I was giving her money every month.'

'And I had to back Sallie up no matter what she decided,' Harriet added. 'Whenever she wanted something done, I had to be with her on it, I gave her some of my wages as well and I swore to never go after her job.'

'When she was killed,' I said and looked at the Septon, 'did you persuade the Chorok's to promote Harriet?'

'It seemed like fair compensation for how we've been treated by her.'

'Do they know, the Chorok's I mean, about you two?'

'They've known from the start,' Cooke answered.

'I see,' I said and decided to go with the blunt approach. 'So you got tired of paying Sallie every month and broke her neck, beat her around the head and threw her down the stairs?'

'No!' Harriet shouted, outrage on her face. 'We didn't kill her. We were happy paying her to keep silent, well, we weren't happy but we could live with it.'

'Robben's the killer, I'm sure of it,' said Cooke.

'Why are you so sure?'

'He tried to kill Betha Able didn't he? Why wouldn't he have killed Sallie?'

'Well that's the point,' I said and sat on the edge of the bed, still looking at the two of them. 'I'm sure he did it, but there is still someone out there who knows enough to fill in the gaps. He was the, what's the phrase, catspaw. Who was master?'

'Why should we know?' asked Cooke. 'The Able family had a lot of enemies, a lot of people hate them for helping in the sack of the city.'

'So it could be anyone? To be honest, I don't think either of you were involved.'

'Then why did you barge in here?' Cooke asked, clearly angry.

'I needed to check that you weren't involved, and the best way to do that is face to face. I'm a good detective, I know my job, and I can spot a liar. You've been honest with me tonight, that's enough. From now on, my advice is find somewhere else for your nightly adventures, but lay low for a bit first. Good night,' and with that I stood up, needing a moment to get a good balance with my cane, and then led my men out of there, out into the inn and then to the street.

'That was a waste of time,' said Foor.

'We have them off the suspect list,' I told him. 'We need to look over the evidence again but,' I said and sighed, shaking my head, 'we can't win every case. We might have to be satisfied with seeing the mastermind escape justice.'

…

The next day, completely alone, my men were back at my office going over the evidence, while I walked through the mortuary. It was a dark, cold hall filled with stone tables, each one holding a body covered by a sheet, a wooden plaque with their name on it as well. Leading me was one of the sisters, the guardians of the dead. Their silence disturbed me but I paid it no mind, I wanted to keep my mind on my work and, somehow, this seemed like the right place to be. The sister led me to a table and pulled the sheet off of the body, revealing Sallie to me.

Somehow she looked better here, not like a woman who had died violently but rather like she was sleeping. Her hair was brushed and her wound cleaned, her skin had lost its colour and soon it would begin to rot but for now she looked to be at peace.

'I'm sorry,' Sallie, I said to her. 'I've never been religious man but right now I hope you will be in heaven, waiting for Betha.'

The thought gave me some comfort, and I took one last look at the body, her restful expression, her hands folded on her chest, and I turned away but then I stopped, and looked at the body one more time.

'Sister,' I said to my guide here, 'I need to check her again. Do I have your permission?'

She was silent, of course, but in her eyes I could see the decision being made. She nodded and I proceeded, taking the sheet off the body completely and looking at her hands and then at her belly.

'I'm an idiot,' I cursed myself and turned back to the sister. 'Do not let this body be moved at all. Is that understood?'

She nodded, though her eyes revealed confusion.

'Thank you, Sister,' I then pressed a Dragon into her hand. 'A donation for your good work.'

After that I left as quickly as I could, moving at a speed which made my foot begin to ache despite my special boot. Once outside I mounted my horse and rode as fast as I could back to Visenya's, climbed off, sending a jolt of pain from my foot up through my leg and hurried inside, going into my room where my men, and Matti, were going over notes and discussing the case. Their eyes rested on me, my eyes alive with energy, sweat clinging to my brow and me breath coming out in pants.

'I've done it!' I shouted. 'I've solved the bloody mystery.'

…

It was only fitting that it should end where it all began, at the Chorok house that afternoon. I sat in the living room and looked at the assembled people, waiting to hear what I had to say. My men were all there, as was Ser Joffrey and several of the Gold Cloaks, Betha, Septon Cooke, Harriet, Roben, his hands held together in irons, the Chorok's and Betha's guards.

'Thank you for all coming,' I said as I stood up. 'The events of the past few days have been some of the most interesting in my whole career as a Private Investigator. It has been a case of greed, jealousy and death, but now, it is over. I've solved the whole case.'

'You have?' asked Joffrey.

'Indeed I have. It was difficult, working it out. A murder so well planned that only an incredible piece of luck could have led to it being solved. Naturally, of course, Roben is the killer. His hands are large enough to match the wounds on Sallie's neck, he has the motive, and his attempt on the life of Betha Able shows that he is a thug, driven by a desire for revenge, willing to kill the wife of the man who killed his father. From evidence it appears that he killed Sallie on the morning when the party was to take place here. He broke her neck, placed her body at the foot of the stairs and then used an axe or other blunt weapon to put a gouge in her skull, unknowingly leaving small droplets of blood splattered on the wall nearby. He then smeared her blood on one of the steps to make it look like an accident. I must admit, bastard,' I said to the angry young man, 'I'm impressed. I almost thought it was an accident as well if not for the wounds on her neck. I almost missed them myself and you would have gotten away with murder and potentially the murder of Betha Able as well.'

'I thought her body would be found sooner,' he growled. 'I didn't know a man like you would be there.'

'Understandable. However, anyone who could plan a murder as well as this, would have a back up plan.'

'I didn't have another plan.'

'Yes you did, a good one at that. One that almost fooled me.'

'What are you talking about?' he snapped though I could see the fear in his eyes and I gave him a grin.

'This murder,' I said to Ser Joffrey, 'is more complex than I thought at first, Ser Joffrey. A tragedy as well, poor Sallie dead, to lure her good, kind sister here to this city to mourn for her death and take her body home. Wouldn't you agree my dear?' I asked Betha.

'It's wicked,' she said with venom.

'Exactly, especially since you were the one who planned the murder.'

'WHAT?' shouted Cooke and Joffrey at the same time.

'How dare you?' Betha stood up and glared at me. 'You accuse me of aiding a bastard to kill my sister? How dare you?'

'Do you have proof of this?' asked Joffrey.

'Indeed I do, or, to be precise, she does,' I said and pointed to Betha. 'Take off your rings.'

'What?' she asked, the colour draining from her face.

'Take them off,' I said and held out my hat for them to put them into.

Slowly, she did so and dropped each ring into the hat. I reached in and pulled out one ring, an unadorned gold ring which I turned and my and smiled when I saw that on the inner surface was writing. Ilse.

'Your mothers name,' I said. 'This ring belongs to Sallie.'

'You killed your sister and had this man take her ring?' asked Joffrey, gesturing at Roben. 'Why?'

'Well that's the interesting thing,' I said, kicking myself for not realising it sooner. 'She didn't take the ring from Sallie, Sallie is standing right in front of you.'

At that moment you could have heard a pin drop in England even though it was worlds away.

'What?' she asked, her voice shaking uncontrollably and where once fear occupied her eyes, now there was pure dread.

'It too a while to work it out, Sallie. You and Betha met at the Green Crown for supper, didn't you? You then left but then returned with Roben, and then, I'm guessing, he broke her neck and hid her body somewhere. The next morning you put in an appearance here at the same time as Roben, and then you sneaked out, your position as servant organiser let you knew where everyone would be and where to not be noticed. Roben then dressed Betha's body in your clothes, took her to the salt cellar and made it look like she died in an accident. Meanwhile you snuck back into the Green Crown, into your sisters room and took her place.'

'That's ridiculous,' she hissed. 'Sallie gave me that ring before she died, it was the last thing she did when I saw her.'

'Don't lie to me you murderous hag. That ring came from this finger,' I pointed to the one in question. 'Your skin is tanned everywhere except on that finger,' I pointed at the lighter skin where the ring usually sat, the constant presence of the ring over the course of years had made a permanent dip in the skin as well. 'You've not taken it off in years. I never would have realised it if I hadn't checked Betha's body earlier today. The tan marks on her fingers suggested that yes, she wore rings, but not one for so long, and you Sallie never had children, but Betha Able is the mother of two children, and her body has stretch marks on the belly which can only come from pregnancy.'

'Seize her!' Joffrey ordered and his men grabbed Sallie by the wrists, holding her in place before she could run.

'Thank you.'

'But I don't understand,' said Sarafi. 'This is Sallie, but if she was working with Roben, why did he try to kill her when he knew that she had taken Betha's place?'

'The backup plan,' explained Tallard. 'When John and the rest of us began our investigation, they put into effect their backup plan in case anyone started investigating. By attempting to kill "Betha",' he said in a sarcastic tone, 'it would make the deception more believable.'

'It's over,' Roben said and looked at Sallie and then at me, his voice laced with defeat. 'The idea was that I'd be led onto the gallows and Sallie would beg for my life, saying that she didn't want to see another die and then she'd use her position as Lady of Bright Stone to negotiate my freedom, or bribe someone to let me go.'

'Why did you agree to do it?' I asked Roben. 'This plan was incredibly reckless.'

'We both would have got what we wanted,' Sallie told us. 'He'd have revenge on the memory of Able and I'd have what was rightfully mine.'

'Rightfully yours?' I asked, furious. 'The only thing rightfully yours is the noose.'

'Bright Stone! Do you have any idea what it's like, knowing that your sister, the one you grew up with, shared a womb with, was living in luxury while you have to work every day, cleaning floors and washing dishes? I wanted that life! I deserve that life!'

'If you weren't a selfish, angry, spiteful bitch then your sister would have had you there with her. Now thanks to your jealousy, two children will have to grow up without their parents,' I told her, my voice low, barely above a growl. 'I should have suspected you earlier but the way you talked about loss struck a chord with me, and you put me on the trail of an innocent man. I was a fool and I should have caught you sooner, Sallie. Now you will hang for your crimes, your body will be buried in a pauper's grave and you will be forgotten, nothing more than one more corpse lost forever, and when the Stranger come for you, even he'll spit you out.'

'Take her away,' said Joffrey.

'Not yet,' I said and grinned as Foor brought over a simple brown dress. 'This is yours, the dress you wear now belongs to the Able family. Get changed and then you'll go to the cells.'

She said nothing as she was led into the next room to get changed while the Bright Stone men were left alone, clearly stunned and confused by all of this.

'Gentlemen,' I said to them, 'I give you the duty of taking your ladies body home.'

'We'll do it,' their leader promised me.

'John,' Ser Joffrey said to me and reached out his hand, 'well done. Well done.'

'Thank you,' I responded and shook the hand firmly.

'I don't think anyone else could have solved this one.'

'Probably not. I'll take payment in the morning.'

'Of course. If we need you again, _when, _we need you again, I'll see you.'

'I look forward to it. I always look forward to seeing justice done.'

…

That night at Visenya's my men were celebrating a good few days of work well done, Cooke and Harriet with them as well as Ser Joffrey, sharing stories of the case and how I worked out what happened, to the fascinated patrons of Visenya's. I however sat away from them in a small alcove at a small table.

'Are you alright John?' asked Caril, who had joined me for supper that night.

'Not really,' I answered. 'I could have let it slide, let Sallie pretend to be her sister. The children would have a mother, of sorts, and Roben would still hang, I'd make sure of it.'

'You really think she would have taken care of the children? No, she'd have discarded them so she could focus on her life as Lady of Bright Stone.'

'Perhaps you're right. Time will tell, it always does.'

'I know it does. You did what was right, you put a pair of murderers in the noose.'

I just looked into my mug of beer and then at Caril.

'I'll remember that. I never wanted to see people executed, I became a PI because it was enjoyable, because I wanted to help people, not to give the executioner work.'

'You did your duty. I'm impressed.'

'Thank you,' I said and smiled at her, just as Foor and Gallin came up to us.

'Aren't you going to join us John?' Gallin asked me. 'Come on, sing us something from your homeland, this Newcastle you keep telling us about.'

'Go on,' Caril encouraged me.

'Alright then,' I said and stood up, approaching the bar with Caril as all the other patrons looked at me, waiting. 'This is a song from my home land. The tale of the brave knight Sir John Lambton and the cruel, wicked Worm. Join in when you can!'

I began thumping my fist on the counter until everyone else was repeating the beat with banging glasses, stamping on the floor or hitting the counter.

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

_One Sunday morn John Lambton went_

_A-fishing' in the Wear;_

_An' catched a fish upon he's heuk,_

_He thowt leuk't very queer._

_But what a kind of fish it was_

_Young Lambton cuddent tell._

_He waddn't fash te carry'd home,_

_So he hoyed it doon a well._

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

_Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan_

_An' fight in foreign wars._

_he joined a troop o' Knights that cared_

_For nowther woonds nor scars,_

_An' off he went te Palestine_

_Where queer things him befel,_

_An' varry seun forgat aboot_

_The queer worm doon the well._

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

_But the worm got fat an' growed and' growed_

_An' growed an aaful size;_

_He'd greet big teeth, a greet big gob,_

_An' greet big goggle eyes._

_An' when at neets he craaled aboot_

_Te pick up bits o' news,_

_If he felt dry upon the road,_

_He milked a dozen coos._

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

_This feorful worm wad often feed_

_On caalves an' lambs an' sheep,_

_An' swally little barins alive_

_When they laid doon te sleep._

_An' when he'd eaten aall he cud_

_An' he had had he's fill,_

_He craaled away an' lapped he's tail_

_Seven times roond Pensher Hill._

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

By now most of the others had picked up the chorus of the song and were joining in with me.

_The news of this myest aaful worm_

_An' his queer gannins on_

_Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears_

_Ov brave and' bowld Sor John._

_So hyem he cam an' caught the beast_

_An' cut 'im in twe haalves,_

_An' that seun stopped he's eatin' bairns,_

_An' sheep an' lambs and caalves._

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An Aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story_

_Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,_

_An' Aa'll tell ye 'boot the worm._

_So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks_

_On byeth sides ov the Wear_

_Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep_

_An' leeved i' mortal feor._

_So let's hev one te brave Sor John!_

I raised my mug in the air and everyone else did as well, letting out a heroic cheer.

_That kept the bairns frae harm,_

_Saved coos an' caalves by myekin' haalves_

_O' the famis Lambton Worm._

I then raised my arms in a motion of silence for the final chorus.

_Noo lads, Aa'll haad me gob,_

_That's aall Aa knaa aboot the story_

_Ov Sor John's clivvor job_

_Wi' the aaful Lambton Worm._

There was a round of cheering as I finished the song, a popular folk song from back home which most of us there knew. I put on even more of my accent for it, that was the only correct way to sign it after all and I remained at the bar with Caril, Matti and my men as we celebrated a very difficult case with a few pints of beer (and milk for Matti) before we all laughed and agreed to head back to our rooms or homes. I offered to escort Caril back to her place, but she declined so I headed up to my room alone.

After I closed the door behind me I looked to the now wiped clean board, only a few smudges of white chalk remained of the investigation, and even less would soon be left of the criminals.

Then I saw him.

He was sitting at my desk, looking through the case file I had written up earlier. I could see no features due to his hooded robes.

'Who are you?' I shouted as I reached under my coat towards my dads knife.

'Someone interested in your work,' the soft male voice answered.

'I prefer names,' I drew my knife. 'You have five seconds.'

'Very well John Ship,' he said pulled down his hood, revealing a bald head and a face with some traces of makeup. 'My name is Varys, you may have heard of me.'

'The spymaster?' I asked, now worried. I'd read enough cheap novels to know that a spymaster is never someone to be trusted.

'Master of Whispers,' he said in a too pleasant voice.

'Alright, why are you here?'

'I wanted to speak to you.'

'About?' I asked, impatient already.

'Your capture of Sallie was an impressive display of your talents, John Ship. I believe that we may be able to be of use to one another.'

'Be of use? I don't like riddles, Lord Varys. Tell me what you want.'

'There may be a time when you come across valuable information or you may step on the wrong toes. I can help you when that happens. Just keep that in mind. I have noticed you, John Ship, and what I notice always matters.'

'I didn't try to get your attention.'

'In this city, no one stays hidden forever. A foreigner who rescues children, sees killers go to the noose, protects his friends and remains committed to justice is rare, you have made noise, John Ship, and I have heard it. You have a choice, either remain alone, solving crimes, or take your place as one of the parts which make the realm work.'

He then stood up and walked towards the door straight past me and was soon gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I realised that I might end up dealing with the big players in this country. That was not something I wanted to do.

**AN: And John Ship's latest case ends with a killer being arrested, a conspirator with him and justice being done.**

**For the record, my decision of the song for John, a man from North East England, came down to either Lambton Worm, which I went with, or Blaydon Races. It was a tough call but I think I went with the right one.**

**Also, congratulations to Supremus85 and to Yifto who managed to predict the outcome, well done indeed.**

**Review Responses:**

**Supremus85: I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hoped you enjoyed this one. Well done for working it out.**

**Mpowers045: Thanks for the review, and I think it got better this chapter.**

**Someguy the anon: Well this was certainly less than twelve months!**

**Raw666: Thanks for the review and I hope you liked this one.**

**Anon: Well thanks, I tried to make this one different and I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**BattleUnit3: Well in a city like King's Landing there is always someone doing something shady. Thanks for the review.**

**Yifto: Oh there is no risk of being too Sherlocky. While my favourite detective shows are "A Touch of Frost" and "Hetty Wainthrop Investigates", mostly due to the more grounded settings, with this mystery I wanted to make it more of a convoluted mystery like Doyle or Christie would have done. Thanks for your review and well done for working it out.**

**Evilhyperpixie13: Thanks for your review and I'm glad you didn't have to wait too long for this chapter. Usually I prefer for grounded mystery stories like A Touch of Frost or Hetty Wainthrop with this one I wanted a more Holmes like story. I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far and I hope you enjoyed this one.**


	10. Chapter 10

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**AN: I'M BACK! Yep, it's time for another adventure with John Ship: PI. I know it's been a while so I hope this makes up for the wait. I'll be updating as often as I can, though with uni work I'm not sure how long it will take.**

**I would also like to say again just how humbled I am over the popularity of the story, it's proving to be my most popular one yet and for that I would like to say thank you to people who have  
added it to communities, to those who have favourited and followed it and to those who leave reviews. This story is almost at 100 favourites,  
fingers crossed, and well over a hundred followers. Thank you all.**

The Case of the Shadow

Part One

'Can you explain that again?'

'I lost where you were again.'

'Alright, I'll try it again,' I said as I looked at Foor and Kans, ready to explain this again. 'Now, the banker was waiting for money from the butcher. The butcher needed it from the priest. The priest was waiting for it from the orphanage. The orphanage was waiting for it from the old woman. The old woman owned a shop and she was renting it out to an undertaker who owed it to her. The undertaker was waiting for the money from his friend who was also waiting for it to come from the soldier. Now, the soldier was waiting for the money to come from his girlfriend, and that's where we got up too.'

'Alright, I understand now,' said Kans.

'Me too,' said Foor.

'Good. Anyway, me and the banker, we went to the girlfriend and asked her why she needed the money and it turns out that her swine of a landlord had doubled the rent but told the woman that she could owe it to him. After a year he demanded the money but said he'd forget about it if she was nice to him.'

'That filthy piece of muck,' said Foor.

'I know. After that we got everyone involved together at a hall, including the landlord, and I explained everything to them.'

'I bet the soldier wasn't happy,' Kans said with a grin.

'He wasn't. He got, up, walked up to the landlord and punched him in the jaw,' as I said it with relish I pounded on the counter of the bar. 'Punched the bastard so hard one of his teeth flew out.'

'Impressive,' said Foor. 'Wish we had him when we dealt with Wilson.'

We laughed at that and I nodded.

'After that we forced the man to forgive the debt, then cut the rent of the house or we'd hand him in to the officers of the law. The banker took the money out of the landlords bank account and with that we made sure everyone was paid what they were owed. And that, my friends, is the story of the stupidest case of greed I ever had to deal with.'

'With stories like that I wonder why you decided to be a PI,' said Kans. 'My job's much easier.'

'I did it for the interesting work. Keep my brain busy, and no man with a good brain is really a cripple,' I quoted my uncle Simon there.

'Still, my job's easier,' Kans repeated. 'Speaking of which, another beer?'

'No, I've had my fill, besides, I'm on duty in a minute.'

'With the tourney the king's throwing we've almost run out of drink most days,' Kans told me. 'Good for business.'

'This sort of thing always is. Now, I'm off to pick up my last pay.'

For the past couple of weeks the population of the city had seemingly doubled in size, every inn had been packed and, I had it from good authority from Caril over our now weekly lunch that her girls had been working non stop for all that time. The cause for all this celebration was found in a tourney which the king had decided to hold in honour of his father in law. He was visiting the city for that time and his birthday, well here it was called a Name Day went by in that time, and the king used it as a good justification for drinking, partying, feasting and jousting.

Much like a large football game back home the sudden arrival of hundreds, if not thousands of extra people brought a great benefit to the city. Every establishment which sold food, drink, bed and pleasure had made a massive profit from the endeavour. However, there was always a dark side and with the revellers and contestants came pick pockets, thieves and cut throats. Expecting this the City Watch had temporarily hired another hundred men and officers to lead them. As a favour to Ser Joffrey I agreed to take on work as an officer temporarily, the pay wasn't bad but it could have been better, and my job was mostly made up of walking through the crowds and keeping an eye out for pick pockets. Not a hard job but the hours were long, the heavy gold coloured cloak was uncomfortable and the weather was hot. I'm from the north of England, I prefer colder weather, at least then you could cover up to do something about it but in the hot sun that was impossible.

Still, I did my job and now it was over. The crowds had mostly dispersed, except for a few who had managed to find work in the city, and a sense of normalcy had returned to the city which, more and more each day, I was starting to consider to be a home. It was only a short ride towards Ser Joffrey's barracks and once inside I was met by a general feeling of professionalism, the men I passed were fairly well disciplined for a militia, and they recognised me from my past fortnight of serving with them as well as my other work.

It hadn't been an unpleasant job, an interesting one as well. From a distance, for the first time, I was able to see King Robert, the mighty man who by his own hand overthrew the Mad Dragon King, killed the Prince who abducted Robert's betrothed, Lyanna Stark only for the maiden of the North to die. A true tragedy. Robert looked to be a mighty and fierce man, tall and well built, though with a slightly rounded figure which spoke of a strong man who had not been active enough. That was natural, being a king of such a large country wouldn't leave much time for exercise. With him, watching the jousting together, sat his wife, Queen Cersei, a truly beautiful woman with long golden hair and dressed in red, tall and proud much like a lioness. With them as well was Lord Tywin, called by many the Old Lion and I knew at first glance that he was not the sort of man who I would want to cross, reminding me of some of the gang leaders I had run into on an adventure I'd had in London once. He was infamous in this city, his army had sacked it, killed its men and raped its women, butchered the grandchildren of the Mad King, and for that he was rewarded with his daughter becoming queen. I'd seen miscarriages of justice in my time but that was one of the worst. I hoped I'd never take on a case which involved that man. Still, I'd only seen them the once, and they were an impressive sight.

Ser Joffrey's solar was slightly smaller than my room at Visenya's, well organised with an armour rack in one corner, several swords and glaive hanging on a wall as well as a crossbow. Numerous ledgers and logs were on the shelves against the walls and, sitting behind his desk near the window, was Ser Joffrey, writing at a sheet of paper.

'Ser Joffrey,' I said and approached him.

'John, here for your last pay?'

'That's right. It's been an interesting two weeks.'

'It certainly has. It always is when the king holds a tourney.'

'He does it often?' I ask.

'He does.'

'Why haven't there been more taxes to cover it?' I asked, my old job at the tax office still inside of me.

'There never are,' he said with a frown. 'I don't have a head for money, the Master of Coin is handling it.'

'I don't think trusting a man with a nickname like Littlefinger is a good idea.'

'Not our place, John. Anyway,' he said and reached into a box on his desk and pulled out a small leather pouch and then ten silver coins. 'Ten stags.'

'Thank you,' I took them and put them in my pocket. 'You know, with these wages do you ever wonder why I don't join your lot full time?'

'Not really, the pay's more secure though. Have you had any work since the Able case?'

'Nothing major. A man suspected his sisters husband of adultery, we followed him for half an hour and found him in bed with the wife's other sister.'

'I loose hope every day,' Ser Joffrey shook his head. 'Next time there's a major problem we'll send for you, if you want to keep at it.'

'I'll be happy to pitch in. Keep calm and carry on.'

'What?'

'Just a phrase from back home.'

'I see. Until next time.'

'Until next time.'

I shook his hand and then I left, soon back at Visenya's, where I went up to my room, took a glance at the still empty black board, and then I began to write up the case file for the adultery case we had just dealt with. It wasn't important but I liked to keep good records, a habit my dear mother had encouraged. As my quill crossed the paper my mind drifted back to Newcastle, it often did while I was alone, and I wished for something to break up the monotony. Usually in this situation back home I would go and visit Susan, my sister, I had many afternoon teas with her and her family over the years, but that was impossible now.

However, the rest of my day was planned and, after a couple of hours, the knock I had been expecting came and I sat up in my chair, adjusted my tie, and cleared my throat.

'Come in.'

The door opened and Cutler Frond, the architect, entered. He was a small, slight man with a long nose and very sharp eyes. His clothes were of good quality and under his arm was a leather satchel.

'John,' he said happily.

'You've inspected the house?'

'I have, and, all things considered, it's in good shape. Mind you, the roof tiles need some work and the doors are all rotting, the plaster needs some work as well,' he then sat down on the other side of the desk. 'The structure of the house is fine, it's just things here and there.'

'Good,' I responded while he opened his satchel and brought out the designs I had sketched out for him to study. 'I like your ideas for the house as well, do you have any experience as an architect?'

'No, but my favourite uncle was an architect.'

'Really? I heard you came from a family of coal miners.'

'My father did,' I explained, I ended up having to do that a lot. 'My mother's family were pretty rich.'

'Oh, I see, your father was a lucky man. So, your designs are all good, though they need some work, you know, basic structural stuff, oh and also the tiles tax.'

'Of course. There are only two things in life we know will happen. Death and taxes.'

He chuckled at my remark and then we got down to business, going through my desires for the house, it needed to serve as a home and as a workplace for me and my men. We worked through most of the afternoon and into the evening, working out what the costs would be, what we'd need, wages for the workmen, I sent down for food and drink at one point and we finished just before sun down and Cutler left, happy at a good days work. By then I was feeling tired so I started thinking about getting an early night, the first in a while as I had been working late to keep order in the city. Before I could get changed to go to bed the knock came at my door again.

'Who is it?' I asked.

'It's me, Kans.'

'Come in then.'

Still behind my desk I watched as Kans entered, followed by three men.

'These men want to talk to you, they've been waiting for a while.'

'Alright I'll talk to them. Gents, pull up chairs.'

I sat a bit straighter behind my desk as the three men got comfortable in their chairs and Kans went back down stairs. The men in front of me were neither rich or poor, their clothes were practical but of better quality than those of the poorer residents of the city. One was a large man with thick ham like arms and had a shaved head with thin beard, another was extremely skinny, though not unhealthy looking, and wore a necklace of golden rings, the last was the oldest with white hair, long nose and thick eyebrows.

'What can I do for you?' I asked the three of them.

'We need your help,' said the old man. 'My name is Petyr, I own the butchers shop just down the street from here, this is Lanman,' he gestured at the man with the necklace, 'he runs a jewellery business and this is Geor,' he pointed at the man with the large arms, 'and he runs a bakery nearby. We've not known each other for very long and we wouldn't know each other if not for all of us dealing with a crisis.'

'Petyr,' I said to him, 'I'm not a lord, I'm a man like you. Talk to me plainly. What's happened?'

'What the old man's trying to tell you is that we've all been burgled,' explained Geor. 'The three of us, all of us, have been burgled, and we think it's been done by the same thieving son of a dog.'

'This sounds like a City Watch job.'

'They investigated but found nothing,' said Lanman. 'They've been overworked with the tourney so they weren't able to look into it properly. We know about what you've managed to do before, and we think that you can find this burglar.'

'Well, I'll take the job then.'

'How much?' Lanman asked.

'The job will cost you fifteen dragons.'

'Fifteen?' they asked at once.

'Do you want the man found?' I asked.

'Of course,' answered Geor.

'Fifteen dragons then. I'll take a down payment of five dragons, the rest when the job's done.'

'Fine,' Petyr agreed and reached into his leather purse, pulling out five gold coins.

'Thanks,' I said and took the money before reaching for a blank sheet of paper and began making notes. 'So, what's been stolen?'

They all made to talk at the same time but then stopped and allowed Geor to go first.

'I was the first he targeted. I woke up one morning and found my roof tiles had been taken out making a hole in the roof. I checked the strong box and it had been opened, the bastard stole my rings.'

'Your rings? What do they look like?'

'Silver, all three of them, and one has an amethyst in it. They were my grans.'

'I see. Alright. Who's next?'

'Me,' said Lanman. 'It was my shop that got robbed. Since I have a lot of valuables in there the place is secure. The walls are all stone, the windows are all barred and the doors were locked and bolted shut on the inside.'

'Inside? Who was in there to bolt them?'

'A sellsword I hired to watch the place, his name is Folin. Anyway, I came along one morning, Folin let me in and I took one look round and it turned out we'd been robbed.'

'Didn't Folin do anything?'

'No, he got drunk in the night and fell asleep. The thief stole four silver necklaces, each one carrying a disk lined with tiny pearls, eight gold rings, each one with a ruby on it, and seven small bars of gold.'

'Escalation,' I muttered. 'I'll need to talk to Folin then. Where does he live?'

'He's usually down at the docks, I dismissed him.'

'So, Petyr, what did he steal from you?'

'Money,' he answered. 'All the money I had in the shop.'

'How much?' I asked.

'Fifty two dragons, I've been saving that for years.'

'Fifty two. Bloody Hell.'

'I know.'

'Where was the money kept?'

'In a strong box in a cupboard under the floor boards.'

'How did he get in?'

'You won't believe this. It looks like he hid in the bone bin.'

'Bone bin?'

'Aye, I throw the bones in the bin over the week and then I leave them out for the rag and bone man. I think he hid in there while the shop was open, waited till we shut and then stole everything before picking the locks from the inside and leaving.'

'I see. Why do you think he did that?'

'No idea. That's your job, working that out.'

'I suppose so. Well, I'll start properly in the morning, I'll need to see your shops, your strong boxes and your locks, I'll need to see the locksmiths who made them.'

'Of course,' said Petyr. 'We'll be ready for you.'

'Thank you, and don't worry, I'm good at tracking down jewel thieves.'

As I said that I had no idea of what sort of case I had just agreed to get myself into, one which would lead to me revolutionising the process of criminal investigations in the Seven Kingdoms, not intentionally of course.

**AN: So, that was the first chapter, the case is afoot and it's going to be different that my last one, not having a murder after all.**

**Also, did anyone get the reference to a certain comedy show in there? I hope you did. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this one.**

**Review Responses:**

**Mpowers045: I'm glad you enjoyed John and Varys's first interaction, it was fin to write and I thought that was a good point for John to show up on the Spiders radar, so to speak, since he'd just solved the death of a noblewoman who would have been known at court. Thanks for your review.**

**Someguy the Anon: I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you enjoy this one. As for what John will get up to, we shall see.**

**Supremus 85: Thanks for your review and well done getting it right.**

**Felon GT: Don't worry, it's book Varys, no going out like a chump for this guy.**

**Mangaelf1997: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**big allen: Thanks for your review and I'm glad you liked the story. John is starting to make waves, though none big enough, yet, to get the attention of most of the Small Council.**

**BattleUnit3: I'm glad you liked the mystery, I was trying to go for a more Poirot style murder story with that one. I hope you enjoy this one as well.**

**A Fan: Thanks for your review, and I'm surprised someone who doesn't watch GoT would be reading it, a welcome surprise though. I do plan on adding a mystery fairly soon featuring the supporting characters in more prominent ways. Your suggestion there at the end was really funny as well.**

**kazekami1620: I'm glad you think it's a good SI story. When I came up with John Ship I deliberately tried to go the opposite routes of a lot of SI characters by going "okay, I'll make him a forty something year old guy who likes unhealthy food and has a foot deformity." Thanks for your review.**

**likolye: I think I made it a bit too obvious by not adding enough red herrings, I'm still fairly new to the mystery genre so I may have bitten off more than I could chew with the last one. Still, glad you enjoyed it and thanks for your review.**

**Raw666: Thanks for review and, don't worry, someone else high up will soon notice him, I promise you that.**

**AJ Granger: Thanks for your reviews, and John will soon start making larger waves in the city. As for the smell, well, John's used to bad smells since Newcastle was bombed numerous times during the war, that and putting up with the general nuisance of life in the war and put things into perspective.**


	11. Chapter 11

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**AN: I'm BACK! TO begin with, I am so sorry that this took me so long to do, but with university to deal with and a lot of other issues, and now the next great plague is spreading across the world. **

**If you are reading this, I beg you to exercise good hygiene for the sake of everyone. We must all put our maximum effort into preventing the spread of Corvid-19.**

**Once again I would like to express my most sincere thanks to the massive number of people who have added this story to their favourite and follow lists. It is a truly humbling experience.**

**Also, please be aware that this chapter contains a scene showing a form of abuse so if you have any issues in regard to this matter, I advise you to proceed with caution.**

**Now, onto the chapter.**

Chapter Eleven

The Case of the Shadow, Part Two

'Not very large at all,' I muttered under my breath as I inspected the bone bin, a barrel which had been sawn across its middle.

'So if the thief covered himself with the bones and hid in there, he can't be a very tall man,' said Ser Tallard.

'Exactly,' I agreed. 'I'd guess he was between four foot ten and five foot four, and that's pushing it. A short, cunning man.'

'Wouldn't be comfortable,' said Foor.

'But doable. I met a man once who spent two full days crouching on the branch of a tree without any sleep.'

'Why?' asked Synol.

'He broke out of the lunatic asylum.'

'Ah.'

'So, we've checked the strongboxes and locks here, and the bone bin. He left no evidence behind, I wish not so many people had handled them.'

'Why?'

'For evidence. It would take too long to explain. Nothing more to do here, let's get too Lanman's shop, there might be something there.'

We walked out of the butcher shop and into the busy street outside where a man had been waiting with our horses. It was only a short ride towards Lanman's jewellery shop, and it was hardly an inconspicuous building. The building was white washed and bright yellow disks, meant to represent coins I guessed, were painted onto the walls.

'Not a subtle fella is he?' commented Foor.

'Subtlety isn't a quality in this city,' I answered as I climbed off my horse and one of Lanman's workers took the reins.

Inside the shop it was cool and well-lit with a number of candles in small delicate glass bowls which somehow made the lights brighter. A few young women, all well dressed and being escorted by a large man, were examining a necklace. When Lanman noticed us he excused himself, letting one of his shop keepers handle the women, and he shook my hand.

'Thank you for coming.'

'Just doing my job. Now, let's take a look at the scene of the crime.'

'Of course.'

He took us away from the shop floor and to a back room which also seemed to double as a workshop. There he showed us to a large oak door reinforced with iron and opened by Lanman's key.

'This is where he stole from me.'

I entered the strong room and found a number of boxes made in a similar manner to the door. One of the boxes was open and Lanman picked it up, passing it to me.

'So this is where you kept the goods?'

'This is the one he stole from. Four necklaces, eight rings and eight gold bars.'

'Quite a lot then. How many people have handled this?'

'Me, my shop keepers, the Gold Cloaks when they came to check this just after the theft.'

'Damn.'

'Why?'

'Look, this thief isn't leaving any clues, I'll have to use methods common in my home country to find him.'

'And those methods are?'

'It's hard to explain.'

I gave him the box back and I began to look around the work shop.

'So,' Tallard began asking Lanman questions, 'you don't know how he got in?'

'Not at all. The doors were all bolted shut and I had a guard in the shop. Turns out he fell asleep but the thief couldn't have undone the bolts from outside.'

'So he got in another way,' said Tallard.

'Here,' said Gallin.

I looked over to the young man and saw him kneeling over a narrow drain in the floor.

'What is it?' I asked him.

'This is where he got in.'

I looked down at the pipe and I thought it was too narrow for a man to fit through.

'I'm not sure,' I said when I noticed something. 'Wait, do you see the scratches?'

'That's what got my attention.'

'What scratches?' asked Lanman.

'Here,' I said and pointed to the inside of the drain. 'The sediment inside the drain had made a layer of grime around the pipe, but this has been disturbed recently.'

'But we wash things down there all the time.'

'These marks are moving up, not down.'

'So, are you saying that the thief crawled through the sewers and then into the shop?' asked Tallard.

'It would be a tight fit,' I admitted. 'We do know that he's a small man thanks to fitting into the rag on bone bin,' I then turned to Lanman. 'On the morning when you discovered the theft was the floor in here dirty?'

'It was just before we did the weekly clean so of course it was dirty.'

'I mean, were there foot prints?'

'Yes,' he said nervously, 'I thought they were from the Gold Cloaks. Look John, I was more worried about the fact I'd just been robbed than the cleanliness of my shop.'

'Understandable. We just need to be sure,' I looked at my men. Foor was too big, Tallard, too old for something like this. 'Alright, Gallin, Synol, one of you has to strip off and climb down the drain.'

…

In the end they decided via arm wrestle who would have to do it and Synol lost. So, there he was, in nothing but his small clothes, boots and a long length of wool tied around his wrist, about to climb into the drain.

'So you pay for my meals at Visenya's for a week,' he checked one last time while Foor removed the drain cover.

'Yes,' I agreed.

'Let's get this over with. I knew I should have gone to work for the Iron Bank.'

Carefully, with a grimace, he climbed into the drain and slowly squeezed himself down, Tallard keeping hold of the wool while Lanman's workers came in carrying a large copper bath tub for afterwards. After a moment, Synol shouted up to us.

'Hey, there's gold dust in here.'

'Must have got washed down while cleaning,' Lanman explained.

After than Synol didn't say much, he kept climbing through the sewers until at last, the wool stopped moving and he pulled on it three times to let us know he was coming back. Around that time I remembered something and looked at Gallin.

'Gallin, when we were on our first big case together and we were looking around the apothecaries shop, didn't you mention that you have a cousin who works for the cities sewer keepers?'

'Yes I did,' he answered with a smirk.

'Why didn't you just try to get him in here?'

'Because Synol beat me at dice last night,' he said and suddenly he, Tallard and Foor broke down in laughter while I shook my head, though I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little amused.

After half an hour he re emerged from the pipe, covered head to foot in slime and shit, his hair matted and his small clothes black and at least a dozen shades of brown where they had once been white.

'Disgusting,' I said.

'I know,' Synol said with a shaky voice and he walked over to the tub, now filled with steaming water and submerged himself in it.

'Well, what did you find?'

'The pipes led to the open sewer near White Square.'

'So he could have done it,' I said and nodded, noticing the colour of the filth on Synol's boots I walked back over to the strong room and looked around in there for a while longer until, on one of the shelves, in a tiny spot, noting more than a slight smudge, I saw it. A mark, made of the same sewage that had covered Synol earlier.

'So it's confirmed,' I said with Tallard. 'Cunning bastard isn't he?'

'The thief can't be any larger than Synol.'

'Let's get back to my place, we can start investigating there.'

…

At my room at Visenya's I was writing what we knew so far on the board.

'So the thief is approximately four foot ten to five foot four and has a width between his shoulders of no more than thirteen inches. He is a skilled lockpick as well and hasn't left much evidence except for the smudge in the strong room.'

'I suppose than means we have to wait for him to strike again,' said Tallard.

'I'm afraid so,' I then looked at Matti. 'Boy, I have a job for you,' and I passed him a small purse. 'Go out and buy a length of cloth dyed black, glue, some chalk powder and a fine painting brush.'

'What for?' he asked me.

'Gentlemen, I'm about to explain to you a method of policework common in England. Every man has his own face, does he not?'

'Indeed,' agreed Tallard.

'That also means that every man has his own finger prints.'

'What?' asked Foor.

'The pattern on the fingers for each man in unique to him and him alone, and whenever we touch something our sweat and dead skin get's left behind, leaving a pattern which is often invisible to the Human eye.'

'And with these items you can see them?' asked Foor.

'Yes. Once we have the finger prints, and another crime scene, we can start eliminating suspects.'

'And you couldn't get them from the strongboxes because the marks had been disturbed?'

'Correct.'

Matti then headed off to buy the items I'd need for a crude finger print kit and the rest of us headed into the pub for supper. Over some steak and ale pies we talked about what we had worked out that day.

'I don't' know about you boys but I'm glad we're not doing another murder case this time.'

'You are?' asked Foor.

'Yes. That last one was a damn grim thing wasn't it? I need something more, well, not simpler but something less depressing.'

'I agree. It was nasty business with Sallie.'

After that we didn't said say much, it had been a long day after all and when my pie was finished, and I had been convinced to do a few renditions of the Lambton Worm over perhaps one too many pints of beer, I decided to call it a night and headed up to bed. The reason why I tried to get to bed early was because I was still used to air raids waking me up in the middle of the night and then having to spend the night in the cupboard under the stairs. While Newcastle didn't get bombed as much as London or poor Coventry, with most of that city being destroyed in one bloody night, we had our fair share of air raids. I knew that in King's Landing there was no risk of that, now that dragons were extinct, but the habit was still with me.

It's a strange irony that out of the worlds which must surely exist, if there are an infinite number of worlds which has been proposed by some scientists, that I should find myself in one which once had dragons and magic but have now faded into the past. Still, to see a dragon would be an amazing thing, and remembering my nephews and nieces when I read The Hobbit to them, their faces crunched up in excitement when Smaug first appeared. The dragons of this world though appeared to be animals, not intelligent creatures of magic, which were somehow tamed. Even in a world which would appear to be of a fantastical nature the magical creatures were in fact just animals.

As I awoke the next morning, quickly pulling on my socks in case someone came in and saw my damaged, misshapen right foot, I thought about what next twist this case might take. While having breakfast downstairs with the men and Matti, the front door opened but I paid it no mind while Foor explained his nightmare.

'So my teeth were getting bigger,' he explained. 'They just kept getting bigger and bigger until they started shooting out and they broke a window at the Great Sept.'

'Weird,' I said and thought about what it meant. 'Have you had any problems with your teeth?'

'Not in years.'

'I don't understand it,' said Tallard. 'Why would you dream your teeth were getting bigger?'

'John!'

I looked over to the person who had just entered the inn and I recognised her. Sendra, one of Caril's girls who we had questioned to locate Wilson.

'What is it?' I asked her.

'If this is about the wine stain on the curtains it wasn't me,' Foor quickly explained.

'No it's not, and by the way Foor, it was, I was there remember? Look John, Caril needs to see you at once. She's been robbed.'

'Finish your breakfast quick and get going,' I told the men.

Soon after that, with my equipment in a leather satchel, we rode up to Caril's brothel and went inside and upstairs to Caril's room as quickly as we could. Naturally we didn't bring Matti with us, he was far too young to go inside that type of establishment. As usual my foot caused me to be slower on the stairs. When we got to Caril she didn't look to be upset, rather she looked angry at having something stolen. Once she saw us though her expression changed to one of relief.

'John, I'm glad you're here.'

'Have you sent for the Gold Cloaks?'

'Yes but they're not here yet.'

'Good, they haven't ruined the evidence yet. So Caril, what was stolen?'

'My tiara.'

'Tiara?' I asked her.

'It was a gift from an uncle, he was a rich man back in Lys.'

'Show me where you kept it.'

'This way.'

She took me to a small side room just off her bedroom where a mahogany box sat, it's lid open revealing an lonely velvet cushion.

'So what did the tiara look like?' I asked.

'It was very nice, a gold circlet with a dozen golden vines reaching up to a point at the front holding a ruby.'

'I see. Alright Caril,' I said while taking off my satchel and sorting through the equipment within, 'I need you to find everyone who has come into contact with this box in the last week or so.'

'What for?'

'Just trust me.'

She did so and went off to get them while I turned to me men. 'Watch and learn boys.'

I put on a pair of leather gloves and carefully closed the box before shaking the ground up powder over the surface and then carefully I started dusting. Soon the patterns of finger prints appeared on the surface of the box and I grinned.

'Bloody magic,' said Foor.

'Not magic Foor, science.'

Once I had gotten a large number of prints off of the box I used the bandages, coated with a thin layer of adhesive to extract the prints. Altogether I managed to get five sets from the box when Foor spoke again.

'John, how do we know these prints are from the thief we're looking for?'

'We don't,' I told him. 'This just let's me test this equipment, and if it is the man we're after we just got evidence.'

I went back into the main room and sat down on one of the chairs, a few moments later Caril returned with three other people, an elderly woman who was wearing simple yet sturdy clothes and two young women, both barely twenty.

'This is Marge,' Caril introduced the old woman. 'She's the cleaner here, takes care of my rooms. The girls are Roxxa and Silla, they work in the brothel and I let them try on the tiara a few nights ago.'

'Are you sure no one else has been near it?'

'Aside from the thieving bastard, no one else had reason to be here.'

'Good. Ladies, I'm going to have to ask you to do something for me.'

Understandably they weren't eager to get ink on their fingers but Caril encouraged them to assist me, and soon I had four sets of fingerprints in ink, all of them matched the prints on the box, leaving one set unidentified.

'Alright,' I said when I finished looking at them and then up at my men. 'Question all the staff, ask them if they saw anything suspicious. Caril, I'll question you myself.'

'What about us?' asked the old woman.

'My men will question you later. You can leave for now.'

When everyone else was gone Caril sat next to me.

'Alright,' I said and pulled out my paper and pencil, 'now, tell me when the thief could have gotten in here.'

'It had to be last night,' she explained. 'I don't sleep very well so any one coming in here wakes me up. I only got to sleep just before dawn, until then I was in the brothel making sure the wine flowed and the girls were happy.'

'What time did things start to slow down last night?'

'Two hours before I went to bed. I didn't realise the tiara was gone until this morning.'

'Were all the doors locked?'

'My rooms, the side room and the box, they were all locked.'

'Matches the pattern,' I muttered.

'What pattern?' she asked.

'I've been investigating a thief recently, one very good as a lock pick.'

'You think it's the same man?'

'Possibly, but this would be the first time he's stolen something this identifiable. The other things were smaller, easy to dispose of. The skill set's right but it's odd that he's stealing something like this. Now, can you think of how he knew about it? The tiara?'

'I'm not sure. I sometimes let the girls wear it when they're entertaining an important client and I wear it at special occasions.'

'When was the last time you or one of the girls wore it?'

'I last wore it two months ago, I was invited to a party at the Red Keep. One of my girls wore it last about three weeks ago when, erm, when the King wanted to her.'

'I see. I don't see King Robert sneaking around your rooms at night.'

'Not anymore anyway,' she said with a slight grin.

'Don't want to know that. So, what was the party for?'

'It was a celebration held by Littlefinger for the business owners of the city to get to know each other, you know, improve business, that sort of thing. He made me an offer to buy this place.'

'You turned him down?'

'Of course. This is my life's work, never selling it.'

'Was anyone there who you think would want to steal the tiara?'

'No, I don't think so.'

'Someone might have.'

'Check the guest lists if you want, they should be easy to find.'

'I'll try. Now, did anything unusual happen last night?'

'I don't think so. Wait, actually yes, I did have to do a roll call.'

'Roll call?'

'Yes, a few years ago one of the customers tried to kidnap one of the girls. We got her back so since then if we think we see someone being taken we get all the girls together and make sure they're all here.'

'Was anyone missing?'

'No, everyone was there.'

'Then why was the roll call done?'

'It's a bit odd but Tammy, one of my girls, said she saw a man leaving with someone, a woman by the look of her. Apparently, he looked like he was forcing her to go with him.'

'Curious,' I muttered. 'Did you contact the Gold Cloaks over this?'

'We told one of the patrols, but nothing really came of it.'

'I understand.'

'John, if you can catch this thief, I'll be very grateful.'

'I'll try my best.'

'You'll need money of course.'

'Keep in mind I'm already on a case and I don't know for sure if this is the same man. If he is, we'll work to catch him, if not, we'll catch him anyway.'

'Thank you, John. I really want the tiara back so if you can find it, I'd be very happy.'

'I understand. So, I'll need to have a word with Tammy over this, get a description. Do you know who the man leading the woman out was?'

'You know I can't just give out names of our clients. I have a lot of important people here who don't want to be seen at a brothel.'

'Do you want me to catch the thief?'

'Yes.'

'Then tell me.'

'Alright,' she said and shook her head. 'Just promise me you won't let anyone know you heard it from me.'

'I give you my word. If anyone asks I'll say a passer-by saw him'

'Thank you. He was Ser Chrison Torre. You can find his address in the city record halls.'

'I'll have a word with him.'

'You really think Ser Chrison is involved with the theft?'

'I don't like leaving stones unturned. It might come to nothing but it's worth checking.'

'Just be careful. I don't like to turn away customers but Ser Chrison has come close to being banned before.'

'Why?'

'He's a bit rough with the girls. A lot of customers are like that but he once broke a girls nose while he was having sex with her. She said he laughed when he did it.'

'Alright, now I'm worried. Still, I'll be alright, when I go to talk with him I'll take my men with me.'

'Just be careful. I really don't want anything to happen to you.'

'Why thank you.'

…

That afternoon I and my men climbed off our horses outside of Ser Chrison's house, a large building behind a low wall with an arched wooden gate separating it from the was obvious we didn't belong there, in that well to do area of town, my men having spent most of their time in the rougher areas of the city and me in my other worldly clothes. Foor this time helped me off my horse, the condition of my foot, as usual, causing me problems.

'Are you alright?' he asked me as I steadied myself on my walking stick.

'Of course. Well, let's get going.'

Fortunately the gate was open and we were able to go in easily enough. Ser Chrsion's guards allowed us through, a man like Ser Chrison would normally have men coming to speak with him throughout the day. Inside the wall was a small, simple garden with several apple trees growing, a paved path leading up to the front doors of the house. Chrison's men wore green and red tabards, and I guessed there were about fifteen or so of them in property as we were led by a servant to Ser Chrison's solar.

The servant, a young woman, entered first and informed her master that we were here to see him and she soon told us we could enter.

'Thank you my dear,' I said to her and we went into the solar to find a comfortable looking room with a small bookshelf against one wall, an empty fireplace in another, and the window open.

Sitting behind a large wooden desk I saw a man a few years older than myself with receding blonde hair and a large moustache. While he looked to be overweight, I could tell that this was not the case, rather his clothes hid a well-muscled figure.

'Please be seated,' he said in a tone that was friendly enough.

'Thank you,' I said, enjoying the slight relief of taking pressure off my foot. 'Allow me to introduce myself, John Ship, of Ship Investigation Services.'

'John Ship? The same man responsible for the Lady Able mystery?'

'That's me.'

'Well done. I tragic one, though I was no friend of the Ables. So tell me, what's brought you to my door?'

'Nothing good I'm afraid. Please understand that in my line of work I often have to deal with the darker elements of this city,' of course I had to be delicate with how I phrased this. Just like in my home world the ruling class relied on many hypocrisies to remain in power and to keep the illusion of righteousness. Hence, I had to speak to him on his terms, with half truths and subtle implications. I hated it but it was a part of the job. 'This morning a young woman in the employ of the Blonde Blade's Madame summoned me to her mistresses establishment. A tiara owned by the madame had been stolen the night before, and I believe that it may be linked to a series of other similar thefts committed over the past few weeks.'

'A tragedy that our mighty city is home to such rogues,' Chrison respinded in a tone which made me feel like I was sitting with him in a pub discussing Newcastle United's performance at Saint James's Park. He was playing with me, enjoying the illusion.

'Indeed it's a tragedy. Now, please understand that I came here to keep this discussion discreet, but a certain witness says that you were seen leaving the brothel last night. Is this true? If it is, you might have seen something to help me catch the thief.'

'Me? At a house of ill repute. Ha, ha, ha. I'm sorry to tell you, John Ship, that your witness must be mistaken.'

'So where were you last night?'

'I was here last night, going over the accounts. My castle is located beyond the city walls but I have to be here to attend court, so I spend most nights looking over the latest tax records and the farmers produce.'

'A reasonable alibi,' I said, even though I knew it wouldn't stand in any court in Britain.

'Why would you even come to me about this? There must have been a hundred drunken degenerates at that place you could ask.'

At this point I was growing sick of these courtly games, I'm from a Geordie miners family and I'm bloody proud of it, we have no time for that shit, it was time to give him the proverbial knife to the heart to see his reaction.

'The man, obviously mistaken to be you, was the only one seen acting suspiciously last night. Dragging a woman away from the place, you know. Obviously, that wasn't you, how could it be you?'

His expression didn't change, if I was playing cards with him he would be a good player and I'd hate to try it. He stood up, I did likewise, and he walked towards the bookshelf, I followed him of course, and he picked a heavy tome off of a shelf, the leather cover carved intricately with a seven pointed star and jewelled metal was attached to the corners, a lock went over side keeping it shut. I guessed it was a copy of the Seven Pointed Star, this lands equivalent to the Bible. It was clearly a heavy tome, he, a large, strong man, needed both of his hands to hold it.

'Tell me, Ship, are you a holy man? Do you fear and honour the Seven?'

'I keep my own God,' I answered him, knowing that my real answer of only going to church once a week was mostly done out of obligation over true devotion.

'I see. There's another reason to hate your guts then.'

Faster than lightning he hurled the book down onto my right foot and pain exploded across my body.

Suddenly I was no longer in the solar, or even in Westeros. I was suddenly back in Newcastle, I was a child, writing in pain, tears blurring my vision, yet I could still see Uncle Henry, his face twisted with rage and satisfaction as he forced the sharp tipped umbrella into my right foot.

'You are nothing but common muck! You are filthy! My slut of a sister married your father and you are God's punishment! Degenerate! You deserve this!'

I was then back in the solar and the scene had changed. My men were on their knees, half a dozen men in Ser Chrison's red and green livery had piled into the room and had their daggers at my men's throats, one move and they'd all be dead. I tried to reach for my cane but I saw it was in Chrison's hands. With one move he broke it over his knee, showering me in splinters and then he tossed them into the empty fireplace.

'I can't just kill you, Ship, but I suggest you and your men look elsewhere. Come here again, and we'll kill you to defend my property,' he then looked at his men. 'Drag these bastards out!'

And so we were physically dragged out of the house, down the stairs, and then along the garden path before being thrown into the road, some of the passers by in the street laughing at us.

'I'll gut him myself!' Foor shouted and reached for his sword, getting ready to rush towards the now closed gates.

'Don't be an idiot!' I snapped at him. 'He's won this round.'

I tried to push myself up off the ground but the pain in my foot was still overwhelming. Suddenly I was grabbed under my arms by Foor and Tallard and they helped me up, keeping my right foot off the ground as they helped me towards my horse.

'Let's get back to Visenya's,' said Tallard, at once taking over for me while I was indisposed. He was now showing himself to be a good second in command. 'Synol, ride to get a maester and tell him to meet us at the inn.'

'I'll do it,' he said and jumped on his horse and rode away faster than I'd ever seen him ride before.

'Let's get going!' he said to the others and we made our way, as fast as we could, back to the inn.

We would have gone faster but Foor volunteered to stay next to me on his horse to make sure I wouldn't fall off in my injured state. When we got back, Foor and Gallin carried me inside and sat me down at our usual spot.

'What happened?' asked Kans, the bar keep worried over my condition.

'John was attacked,' answered Tallard. 'The bastard threw a heavy book at his foot. Seven Pointed Star.'

'Gods no. Will he be alright?'

'I sent Synol to get a maester.'

'Good. I'll get John an ale.'

I leaned back in my chair, the pain was subsiding by now, but it was easier to deal with. The problem with my foot is that it always hurts, there is always some pain coming from it, a constant reminder of the bungling surgeon who tried to fix my clubbed feet only to leave me crippled since childhood. After a lifetime of it I ended up being able to ignore it but when a serious blow is made on my foot I can feel it all.

Kans put the large mug of ale in my hand and at once I raised it to my lips and drank deeply from it, soon it was empty in my hand, and I started trying to think, why was he so angry that I brought up the woman? I now knew for certain it was him there but that knowledge wouldn't ruin a mans reputation. Of course it would be embarrassing, but it would soon be forgotten. Was this even connected to my thief? I had no idea, but I knew I was now involved in something very complicated.

**Review Responses:**

**Someguy the anon: While this Petyr isn't **_**the **_**Petyr, I assure you, eventually John Ship will have to deal with Littlefinger.**

**Raw666: Yeah, the higher you are on the ladder, the easier it is to fall off. At the moment John isn't at the bottom of the ladder but he's making his way up it.**

**A fan: I wanted to make it clear that John is willing to do a lot of work to make ends meet in this world so taking up a temporary job with the Gold Cloaks made some sense to me. I am also rather humbled that you are enjoying this story so much, I always find mystery novels to be some of the most intriguing, quite often my and my family make it a game while watching Vera or Hetty Wainthrop to work out who the guilty party is. I'm glad you're enjoying this story and I hope this chapter is just as good.**

**Shadow Patronus: Thanks for your review, I really hope you enjoy this chapter as well.**

…

**So everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review and let me know what you think. Have a great day.**


	12. Chapter 12

John Ship: PI

I own nothing but my OC's

**You know, it's amazing how productive you can be when the government bans you from leaving your house. Yeah, another chapter, a lot shorter than the previous one but I hope you enjoy it.**

**And now, more than ever, BE CAREFUL! The Corona Virus is a catastrophe and the last thing we need is someone spreading it by ignoring guidelines.**

The Case of the Shadow: Part Three

The next afternoon I, escorted by Foor, walked into the Red Keep. It was the second time my work had brought me up to the blood red castle which dominated the city. My last trip here had restricted me to the kitchens and the servants quarters, this time I truly was walking through the halls of power. I had read Arch Maester Glydan's seminal work on the history of House Targaryen at one of the libraries and my thoughts drifted to the great events which took place here. Was it in this hall that Jaehaerys and Alysanne planned their secret marriage and flight to Dragon Stone? Was it through that door that Blood and Cheese crept towards their bloody mission? Did Maegor the Cruel march through this same corridor, a foul atrocity on his mind. So much blood had been spilt, so many glories, so many acts of love and hate had taken place in the Red Keep, and yet I, the crippled son of a coal miner, now walked through it.

All around us were the rich and powerful of the city, all content with going about their own business, completely separated from those of the people in the twisted city below. I hated the atmosphere it gave off, and the condition of my foot made it even worse. According to the maester who gave it a look over the night before it would be alright, just some bruising. He also seemed more interested in the botched surgery which got my foot in that mess to begin with, but he was eventually persuaded to leave.

My foot hurt whenever I put pressure on it, despite my specially made boot, and my new walking stick was a different length to my old one making walking even more awkward. Still, I persisted as we made our way around the castle.

That morning I had wasted hours trying to find the guest list for the party attended by Caril but no one seemed to have it so I decided to go straight to the top with it. I had to go and ask Littlefinger himself. I had heard a lot about this man since I arrived in King's Landing, and little of it was good. Apparently he was a genius when it came to money, had increased revenues ten times over and appointed merchants and businessmen to offices usually held only by the nobility. That was the good part. The rest of it, not so much. He ran brothels catering to every desire, some of them illegal, but could get away with it thanks to his position. People who opposed him had a bad habit of turning up dead in the Black Water and some whispered that he had claimed the virginity of the wife of the King's best friend.

He was a dangerous man, I suspected, but I had no choice. I had to get the information for the sake of the case and therefore I had to talk to Littlefinger, well, his proper name is Lord Baelish but everyone referred to him as Littlefinger. There were areas of the Red Keep which were reserved for public access, mostly, it seemed, for nobles to gather around and gossip and for commoners to petition the king. As for the private areas, getting there wasn't as much of a problem as I thought they would. The gold cloaks put on guard there held us up for a moment but after telling them I was going to see Lord Baelish they let me past at once, and after that a servant girl we bumped into escorted us to the mans chambers.

'Thank you,' I said to her and handed her a stag which she grinned at before hurrying off.

At that I knocked on the door and after a few moments came the answer.

'Enter.'

Foor opened the door for me and I went inside. The office was large with tapestries depicting birds covering the walls, shelves covered by neatly ordered ledgers were standing against the tapestries and in the centre of the room was a large desk, neatly arranged with papers and quills. Sitting there, looking at a sheet of paper, was a man a few years younger than me with dark hair and a thin moustache. He was skinny and not too tall, not an intimidating man at all, yet I had seen his type before, back when I worked at a tax office, usually men who tried to avoid paying up.

'Thank you for letting us in,' I said as I walked towards the desk.

'You are?' he asked me.

'John Ship, of John Ship Investigation Services.'

'John Ship? The man who sometimes works for the Gold Cloaks? Caught that Wilson man?'

'That's me.'

'We'll it's good to meet you Ship,' he said, putting the paper on the desk. 'Please sit down. How can I help you?'

'It's to do with a matter I'm investigating. There have been a number of burglaries lately and I think you may have some information to help me with it.'

'And what would I have to do with a common thief?'

_Taxes, _I thought to myself, before giving him the actual reason.

'One of the items stolen was a tiara belonging to Caril, Madame of the Blonde Blade.'

'Oh, her. I always thought she took security very seriously.'

'She does, but this thief is very good. She says that the last time she wore it was at a party you hosted a few weeks ago. This morning the other victims of the thief also confirmed they were all at the party as well. I need the guest list of the party.'

'I see,' Baelish responded as he stood up, walking towards one of the shelves where he picked up a file of neatly stacked papers, sifting through them on the way back to the desk. 'It was a large party, Ship. About two hundred people were there.'

'I'll go through them one at a time,' was my response.

'A determined man I see,' he commented and presented me with a sheet of paper. 'This is the guest list, it doesn't include plus ones though.'

'It will do,' I then stood up, Foor helping me do so, and then I extended my hand to Baelish. 'Thank you for your assistance.'

'It was my pleasure. Before I forget, well done for catching Lady Able's killer as well.'

'You heard about that?' I asked him, although it wasn't too much of a surprise considering that Varys did as well.

'Most of the court did, mostly just surprised that she was dead and that her sister tried to take her place.'

'It was one of the oddest cases I've handled. Anyway, have a good day Lord Baelish.'

With that I left, glad I managed to keep the meeting as short as possible, and Foor and I began the way back to the exit. However, after only a few minutes I noticed someone a short distance ahead of us slow his pace to come level with us.

'Good afternoon,' he said, stubble on his face and his demeanour and stance was rough, clearly he was some sort of hired muscle, Foor moved his hand towards the axe at his belt and I was very aware of my dad's knife beneath my coat.

'Can I help you?' I asked him, now we had stopped and I realised the corridor was empty except for us.

'Of course. Well, more like, I was wondering to meself, why go to see a man like Littlefinger?'

'None of your business,' I answered him. 'Now, if there's nothing else I need to go.'

'Actually it is my business,' he told me, his voice completely different, his stance and his look seemed different suddenly. 'I can't help but wonder why you wouldn't want to talk on your friend while in the Red Keep.'

'Lord Varys,' I said to the eunuch spymaster. 'I didn't realise it was you.'

'I travelled with a group of mummers when I was a child, I learned a few tricks. Now, why did you want to see Lord Baelish?'

'How did you know I was here?'

'I have a lot of friends in this castle, they saw you come in. Now, about Lord Baelish?'

'I needed the guest list to a party he hosted a few weeks ago.'

'The one attended by your good friend Caril?'

'Yes.'

'I suspected as much, since all the victims in your current case attended it.'

I was annoyed more than surprised that he would know the details of my case. Still, I tried my best not to let on my feelings on the subject.

'Do you anything? Who the thief is?'

'No, surprisingly. It's an unimportant matter but a fascinating one. Anyway,' he reached into his coat and withdrew a folded sheet of paper, 'here's the guest list, with the plus ones.'

Now that was odd.

'Thank you Lord Varys,' I said and took it.

'If you ever need my help, just come and ask.'

'That depends on what you'll ask of me one day,' was my response and I nodded to Foor, we left as quickly as we could.

'How long have you known the Spider?' asked Foor once we were outside of the castle.

'He spoke to me once before after we solved the Able Case. He hinted that he wanted me to work for him one day. I'd prefer it if you didn't tell anyone.'

'I understand John, but remember, it's a dangerous thing, mixing with his lot. You know what they say. Play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die.'

'I hate games.'

…

That night I was sitting in my room, working by candle light and looking over the two guest lists. By the documents was a tankard of beer, almost empty. I was feeling tired in truth, and wanted to go to bed, but I had to find something interesting in the guest list. The list was a who's who of businessmen in the city, tavern keepers, land lords, madame's, shopkeepers and merchants were all there. Aside from the plus ones on the list, there were no differences between the two documents. I also had a few open ledgers with records of the registered businesses in the city, I got Gallin and Ser Tallard to acquire them from the Records Hall. I was looking at the guests then looking up their businesses to find something interesting that could suggest a motive or a link or anything.

The only detail which had stuck out was that of a guest I was unfortunately familiar with, Ser Chrison had been there, due to his businesses involving several warehouses and two wine shops. He was in position to see the tiara, but he couldn't have stolen the other things himself, he could never have fit in the bone bin or squeezed through the pipe. Still, he had plenty of men who could do it, but what would the motive be? He was a wealthy man, why would he need to steal these goods? I leaned back and downed the last of the beer, with some annoyance I pushed myself out of the chair and sighed, grabbing my cane and I began the walk downstairs to get another.

It was mostly empty in the bar room, except for a few others who were still drinking and Foor was asleep in the corner, his shirt stained with beer. At the bar I put the tankard on the counter and Kans at once filled it up. We didn't talk for a few minutes, my mind drifting back to England, and to Uncle Henry. I hadn't thought about him in years, my least favourite relative. My mothers wealthy parents had taken an instant dislike to my father, as for my mothers brothers, Simon, Henry and Thomas, had a mixed response. Simon and Thomas remained close to my mother, Henry didn't. He hated us, and due to being what can only be described, as a fanatical Roman Catholic, he saw my birth defect as a punishment from God. After he attacked me, Uncle Simon arrived and got me out of that mess. I didn't see Henry for years afterwards until I finally learned of his comeuppance.

My grandfather, on my mother's side, was Irish, and when a failed rebellion in Ireland contributed to a long war in Ireland after the Great War, Uncle Henry felt that it was his duty to help his countrymen. He was a wealthy banker and supplied funds to buy firearms for the IRA but was soon arrested and sent to prison. By then I had been working as a PI for a few years and had made a few contacts in the prison service, including that prisoners governor. Pulling some strings I managed to visit him, spat in his face and walked out. Well, that and I paid for a pair of musicians to play "The Sash my Father Wore" on the accordion outside of his cell at the crack of dawn every day for three months. Just thinking about how angry it must have made him made me smile.

'I'm closing the bar in half an hour,' Kans told me, bringing me back to reality.

'Better get me extra one as well then.'

'You know, I could just bring you up a keg. I have tapped ones with ten pints in them.'

'How much?'

'A stag.'

'Aye alright then,' I said and gave him the silver coin while he went to the back to get the keg.

He soon returned and we went upstairs, he put the small wooden barrel on my desk, and I filled my tankard with beer.

'Thanks Kans. It's been a long night.'

'You should get to bed soon you know. You've been on your feet all day.'

'No need to worry lad. I'll be going to sleep in a couple of hours.'

'Fair enough. Well, I'll see you in the morning.'

He left and I got back to work, looking through the names. Then I spotted something. On Varys's list I saw that Ser Chrison was listed as having a plus one, a woman named Dalanna Yarr. That surname, Yarr. I'd seen it before.

Further down on the guest list was a man named Linek Yarr with Dalee Yarr as a plus one. Curious to have the same surname. Feeling interested I looked him up the ledgers to find his address and then his business. My suspicion was confirmed, he lived with his wife, Dalee, and daughter Dalanna. As for his business that's what got me very interested.

He was a lock smith, his shop made locks for strong boxes, doors and anything that needed a lock. Curious, I looked over to Caril's box and picked it up, bringing it close to the candle and I felt a smile when I saw it. Etched onto the lock was the name "Yarr".

…

The next day I, Tallard and Foor found ourselves outside of the modest looking shop of the Yarr family. Gallin and Synol I left to run surveillance on Ser Chrison. After going inside, I found the place empty except for a young, serious looking girl of about sixteen behind the counter, her face caked in thick makeup and with a crooked nose.

'Can I help you?' she asked us.

'I need to speak with the master of the house. Where's Linek Yarr?'

'He's in the back. Who's here to see him?'

'John Ship,' I told her and she at once hurried off to get Linek.

For a couple of minutes we waited, I took the time to examine some of the locks on display on the counter, a few of them matched the makes of the locks on the strongboxes.

'Good morning,' a voice said and Linek, a tall, lanky man with unusually long fingers and narrow shoulders. 'I am Linek Yarr.'

'John Ship.'

'Yes, my daughter said so. We went to watch the hanging of the Able killers you know. Well done on that.'

'It feels like the whole city knows about that one.'

'Indeed. It was quite a scandal.'

'It was an odd one I'll give you that. Anyway, I came here to ask you a few questions.'

'Oh?' he asked, certainly puzzled.

'Yes, is there somewhere quiet where we can talk?'

'Of course. Follow me.'

He then smiled and let us back through the workshop where a couple of apprentices were working away. He took us to a small office at the back where he sat down and gestured to a chair for me. I sat took a moment to begin this interrogation.

'There's a matter I need to discuss with you. There's been a few thefts lately, a burglar of unusual skill has been able to pick the locks of strongboxes and doors at several businesses and has made off with a lot of precious goods.'

'What does this have to do with me?'

'It appears that these thefts, all of which have been done by the same burglar, were targeted against locks which you made. I checked this morning, and all of them made use of your locks.'

'You think I make shoddy locks?' he asked, outraged.

'No,' I answered him. 'The opposite is true, I've inspected the locks myself and I tried to pick some of them. I am a talented lockpick myself and it was a struggle to get through them. To be honest, I think you might be being targeted.'

It was a lie of course. I needed to get on his good side to get information out of him.

'Why?' he asked me, now looking shaken. 'Why would I be a victim?'

'A rival perhaps,' I suggested. 'There are a lot of men with your profession in this city, could one of them want to ruin your business?'

'They wouldn't need to,' he said and slumped back down in his chair. 'I'm going out of business, we're nearing bankruptcy.'

'You are?' I asked, now finding a motive to steal high value goods.

'Yes. We did have a way out but that's gone now. I'm putting the business up for sale soon.'

'What was your way out?'

'My daughter,' he explained. 'She was engaged to a rich man, but he called it off yesterday.'

'Ser Chrison Torre?' I asked him.

'How did you know that?'

'I looked over the guest list for the party at the Red Keep a few weeks ago. I saw that he had your daughter as a guest.'

'I don't want any mention of that man,' he growled to me. 'He was my last chance at saving my business.'

'I'm very sorry. Do you know why Chrison broke off the engagement?'

'No,' he answered, obviously lying, judging by how defensive he was being. Now it was time to leave.

'Very well,' I said and stood up. 'If you can think of anything else, come see me at Visenya's.'

'The inn?'

'Yes.'

'Alright. If I think of anything I'll tell you at once.'

We left the office, walking past Dalanna who was waiting by the door. Once outside I looked at my men.

'He's hiding something,' I stated.

'I thought so too,' said Tallard.

'He was far to eager to be helpful while revealing nothing at all. Something bad must have happened between his daughter and Ser Chrison.'

'Why didn't you try to get his finger prints?' asked Foor.

'It's not an easy thing to explain, besides, if he is the thief he could accuse me of faking the prints. It's not exactly a proven science yet in this country. When we get back to base I'll have Synol start watching this place.'

**Review Response Time:**

**A fan: Don't worry, I have no plans on giving up this story, out of all of them this is the one I've had the most fun writing. Thanks for your review and your dedication to this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Raw 666: Well, we've had John's first introduction to Littlefinger now. Is he involved, perhaps? However, keep in mind that a man like Littlefinger has a lot going on at once, and John still isn't a large player in the city.**

**Some guy the anon: Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

**Supremus85: Well, he didn't die horribly he got a fate that he deserved. Thanks for your review, and I hope you enjoy this one.**


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